Like Gaston
by Brian Boru
Summary: They say you can't choose your family. Whoever said that never had Gaston Legume as family. When someone from our world is reborn as the twin brother of Gaston with memories of the Disney movie, can he prevent his brother's descent into madness and make sure everyone has a happily ever after? Did I mention this was during the middle of the Napoleonic Wars? No pairings yet.
1. Fraternal Arguments

They say the only thing you can't choose are you family. Well whoever made up that saying needs to be kicked in the dick, even if they're right. Why you ask? Because thanks to a ROB's dickery, my only family consists of a red tunic wearing proto-dude-bro, by the name of Gaston LeGume.

"GODDAMIT Gaston! You gave d'Arque HOW MUCH?" I roared one evening after I had thundered down the staircase from my room in the upper floor of the tavern my brother and I operated and had found out just what he'd been doing out so late.

Like usual the jackass brushed off my outrage and replied in what I'm sure he thought was a conciliatory tone, "Will you calm down Pierre, it's all part of the plan. Besides why do you care so much? None of it was your share of the tavern profits, it's all mine."

I snorted at that little joke, "Oh sure YOUR half of the profits...not like I'M the one doing all the damn work..." and it was true. Pops might have handed over the tavern to the both of us but I was the one who had to keep the place stocked and in one piece. Considering all the fights Gaston and the other village idiots had started I'm confident I could be a master furniture maker if the tavern ever went under.

My brother, never the most pleasant when his dander was up in the best of times was down right nasty tonight as he sneered at my complaints, "If I wasn't there every night being the life of the party we wouldn't be making a fraction of the money we do considering we have you as a gloomy cuss for a bartender."

I slammed the table with one fist, outraged at that accusation. I winced internally when I heard the wood crack, dammit! "I'M a Gloomy Cuss? Well forgive me for not being so full of ham I could be a Shakespearean actor like you are!"

Mentally reminding myself to go see Mr. Alard about borrowing his tools...again, I pulled up a chair across from my brother and glared at him. "And what's this about a plan? Is this about Belle turning you down again? Face it Gaston, She. Doesn't. Want. You! Get it through your thick skull!"

Beau almost laughed at that as he took a pull of his beer, "Every woman wants Gaston, they just don't always know it at first."

I chuckled myself in sheer exasperation, how was I related to such a monomaniacal lunk? "And threatening to lock her father in the loony bin's going to bring her to this revelation? I can think of so many reasons why that would end with us dying from food poisoning. Dammit, I don't want my end to be by a wronged woman, especially when I never wronged her myself."

Gaston, simply shrugged, "Well I already paid the man, can't really go rushing out behind him to ask for the money back, he might not take kindly to that...and I hear he's got the ear of some important people over in Nancy. I'm good but I'm not that good, and I know you don't want that now do you Pierre?" I clenched my fists so tight that my knuckles cracked, part of the reason I was so upset with him was besides that being a ludicrous amount of money, there was also the fact that there had been a lot of concern over Napoleon's campaign into the Holy Roman Empire. Stories were coming in that he was going up against the might of the Hapsburgs AND the damn Russians. It'd been a LONG time since I'd tried to recall what exactly the situation would be in the wake of this but even if ole' Bonny won there were going to be an ASS load of deserters scattering all over the damn place and having something to bribe them with was going to be crucial so our village, which had been able to dodge most of the shit of the past nearly twenty years due to it's obscurity and difficulty to access, doesn't finally get to experience what the rest of Europe was going through. I remembered the horror stories Gramps had told us about the Cossacks, he'd never fought them himself but he'd seen the damage those bastards had caused elsewhere. And with the Tsar fighting alongside the Hapsburgs if they won then the fucks WOULD be moving through and we'd be right in the middle of their attack line.

My family had little to less than nothing good to say about anything that had happened since '89 but we were also smart enough to realize Russians weren't going to be the restorers of the Bourbons my mother prayed for since King Louis was killed.

In the wake of that little reminder I gave up for the evening, "...no...ugh...enough I'm going to bed. I just pray this doesn't come to bite you in the backside down the road."

Gaston was actually laughing by this point, "You worry too much Pierre, just be ready to have your Sunday best for the wedding." He was silent for a moment then said, "Maybe the de Rhin sisters will look your way once me and Belle finally tie the knot, I mean there's three of them, even you have a chance with those odds."

I didn't dignify that comment with an answer I just gave him a one finger salute as I trudged up to bed. I went to sleep that night with the sound of him laughing his ass off.

I guess I should go back to the beginning. I was born in 1989 in the US of A in Atlanta Georgia, I lived in and around the Metro area for the next 26 years, then I was struck by lightning while I was walking back to my car one evening after going to the gym.

I was born again in 1784 in the Eastern part of France in the shadow of the Vosges mountains. I retained my American English though I learned French quickly enough, (thank you infant brain elasticity!) and I grew up knowing a smattering of German cuss words from the men who sold beer to my old man, though ma always washed my mouth out when she heard that sort of talk. My parents were Jacques and Marie LeGume, originally from Gascony from a long line of bean farmers. Gramps was a soldier from old Gascony who fought during the War of Polish Succession. When that conflict ended, he was part of the old Polish Pretender's guards and when he retired the old man had gifted him the money to buy a tavern for years of loyal service.

I didn't remember much of him except for the memory of a Big man with a long white beard and blue eyes who had a thousand and one stories to tell me and my brother about his time in the army.

Pops was much like him save he never had the instinct for being a soldier, being perfectly happy as a Inn Keep. He was a jovial man always ready to tell a story or hear one and we did well with the constant trade coming in and out of the area. Think a big black bearded Santa Clause or a Robert Baratheon who was not a drunken-jackass and you have a pretty good image of him.

Mama was the daughter of an old friend of gramps, they were even from the same village back in Gascony and managed to stick together and survive the war. Where pops was a gentle giant, Mom was a smaller and much more aggressive woman with an eye to making her two sons become something important. She kept a letter of recommendation written by the old Polish pretender and given to her father for later use in case a son of his ever wished to serve in the army. Being the eldest of six daughters put paid to that but she still believed that we could use it ourselves when the time came. She was a loving mother but she was also demanding, she insisted that we become the manliest men to ever manly and tried to do so by introducing us to some of the soldiers who knew both our grandfathers and learning how to fight from them, my brother took to it like a duck to water...me ...eh I tried but I honestly preferred working in the tavern with pops.

Mom constantly tried to get me to work with the soldiers but I'd figured out when I was and I had no intention of freezing my balls off in Russia for a dumpy Corsican if a Spanish Hildalgo didn't slit my throat one dark night or I wasn't skewered by a cranky blonde British man with a Yorkshire accent on some God-forsaken battlefield. So while I did as was asked I did so without much gusto.

Gaston on the other hand was everything that Mama could have asked for in a fighting man. Big, brave, aggressive, and had a mean streak a mile wide in a fight, (which I learned to my detriment many, MANY times.) He could shoot a bird out of the sky by the time he was ten and when he was 16 he'd become the biggest man in the village...except me.

Then there was me, Pierre LeGume, officially the little brother, even if I was another three inches taller than him and fifty pounds heavier. When we were little the two of us were like peas in a pod, the only difference being Beau always wore a red tunic while I wore a blue one. As we grew older we became more and more different, I took more and more after pops, even grew my beard out (as best I could) while Beau looked like something off of one of those Harlequin romance novels much to my eternal aggravation as we grew older.

Other than getting beat on by cranky old veterans and my twin brother, my life in this new world didn't have too much excitement, which I was grateful for considering the bullshit that was going to come my way.

There were only two major incidents that stuck out in my mind before...current events.

One was when me and Gaston were eleven. One night there was this pounding at the door to the tavern. Pops had answered the door and a few strangers in dark cloaks had stepped in. I never saw their features but the big sack of pre-Revolution gold coins were enough for pops to never comment on their origins or purpose. They had stayed in a back room for a single night, then were gone before dawn the next day. I remember waking up Gaston to watch them ride out of town, they were gone too fast but I remember how one of them seemed tiny compared to the others and sick if how he was flopping around in the arms of one of the riders was any hint.

They were heading into the mountains the last I saw them and since it had been so long ago that such a correlation had mattered to me I'd thought nothing of it.

The other major even was when we were about sixteen we had some of the first people to move into the village in a long time. An engineer/inventor from Paris, apparently he and his daughter had been bouncing around France for years after the Versailles court collapsed and when his original living of making overly complex toys for court was no longer viable, he'd decided to look for a more practical use for his contraptions. A mission that hadn't worked well for the man whenever it was known he'd been part of the Bourbon court even remotely. He'd finally landed here and was determined to find something practical, if overly complex in my opinion, to sell to someone and make a living off of it. Otherwise he worked as a tinker/farrier/handyman. Eccentric fella but a brilliant master of his work...even if all the explosions coming from his basement finally scoured much of the goodwill our village, which had a surprising amount of Bourbon/Hapsburg supporters among them, even if they'd never been dumb enough to try and rise for them, had for someone who'd been close to the old King.

It wasn't Mr. Maurice that had sent a chill up my spine, it was his pretty brunette daughter, Belle, with her blue motif to all her clothing and an avid love of books. I now knew for a fact that ROB hadn't just stuck me in turn of the 19th century France for laughs he'd fucking stuck me in the world of Beauty and the Beast...one connected to a much wider world...as memories of old movies from another life ago began flashing back to the fore I had realized just who that small figure in the black cloak had been all those years ago. That prince up in that castle wasn't just any prince, that was Louis-Charles, son of Louis XVI and the Bourbon claimant to the Kingdom of France...fuuuuuucccckkkk!


	2. Claudette and the Soldiers

The few days after our...spat that night after d'Arque's visit were defined by a tense silence. Neither of us said a thing to the other, we simply went about our days. I balanced the books, rotated the booze as needed, and served the drinks. Gaston shot critters and made sure men separated their coin from their pockets and AGAIN completely ignored the de Rhin sisters despite their constant fawning over them, a fact that ALWAYS turned my damn stomach.

When we'd been younger I'd developed a crush on the the eldest and unofficial leader of the triplets, the red-clad Claudette. And to those jackasses who say what was the difference between them...shut up! They HAVE distinct personalities thank-you very much! Just had to remove my dear brother from the scene and they got their wits and personalities back. I could never figure out just what the hell the guy had or was doing to make them go soft in the head like that.

For example there Claudette, the one in the red for those without a visual guide. She was older than her sisters by at least ten minutes and ever since they were little she'd led them in most of their endeavors. She had the most outgoing demeanor, if you approached them it was usually Claudette that started the conversation. She also had a temper...which surprised me.

I hadn't interacted with her or her sisters much when I was younger, getting beat up by geriatric veterans ate up much of my time, but when I was sixteen, the de Rhin triplets started working in the tavern as barmaids. Which is where I got to see Claudette's actually personality when whatever Bolivian Brain Bug-field my brother exuded on her wasn't in effect.

It was maybe a few months after they started working, all three sisters were running drinks back and forth because a small group of soldiers that had been marching to the front and had managed to find our village to bivouac. They'd been part of general Moreau's army facing across from Imperial troops after pushing across the Rhine and had managed to get lost and find our little place to the spend the night.

What all those paintings and pictures fail to convey is that early 19th century soldiers were a bunch of thuggish slobs. They stank, they drank, they smoked, they were loud crude and obnoxious. Also they were grabby with the pretty help.

Grabby customers had always been a risk and one that pops would have no truck with, often throwing the offenders out on their tails with black eyes added on for good measure. That night was different...mostly because they had guns and lots of them... so we held our tongue and clenched our fists and I thought I once heard dad mutter something about 'if only the king' at one point.

Gaston was out of town, up in the mountains on a hunting trip, the one time I had ever wished the clod was there. Beau, for all his flaws, has charisma coming out of his ears even at that age and if anyone could keep this night from ending in tragedy it was him.

Well the night dragged on, the drinks kept coming and the soldiers got rowdier and rowdier, pops had gone into the celler to get another .

Then as Claudette was taking a couple of steins to one of the tables the whole night nearly took a turn for the worse.

One of the troops, a Private actually managed to goose Claudette as she walked past. He was young, couldn't have been older than be if that. He wasn't all that tall and thin as a rake with lanky red hair and freckles interspersed with acne. He also had one of the THICKEST country accents I'd ever heard. Where had they even found this guy? If we were provincial than this guy must have been from the howling wilderness.

Regardless the clod had managed to get a good pinch of Claudette's backside. He'd been trying all night with all three girls but they'd managed to dodge every attempt with a spin and light swat. It was actually kind of impressive how good they got so quickly. But this time he'd waited until she was busy laying out one of the steins to a table adjacent to his own when he made his move.

Claudette jolted for an instant and went stock still, the clod just laughed and crowed to his buddies like he'd won some competition...which I guess he had in his own booze-addled mind.

Claudette's face never changed from that cheerful smile she'd had all night but she slowly turned around and face the young man who goosed her, she never said a word, just kept smiling and suddenly upturned and slammed the stein of beer still in her hand over his head, managing to actually wedge the thing far enough to cover his eyes. (Mild Cartoon physics eh?)

Everyone at his table had just laughed their heads off at their companion's predicament while Claudette just stood their smiling as sweetly as a cherub. All the while the sap was struggling to get the stein off his head.

Finally with a loud POP the mug came free...and promptly soaked the guy with the beer that had been sealed inside by his head. He spluttered and swore in outrage for a moment then red from embarrassment his eyes narrowed and he stumbled to his feet.

A chill went through me as I noticed that none of the soldiers made to stop him from doing something drastic and I wasn't sure I could jump in without getting myself or Claudette hurt.

"Yer gunna pay fer that ya b-" before he could even finish his sentence Claudette sprang into action, she doubled him over with a lightning fast punch to the gut. Wheezing in agony and trying to hold in all the beer he'd drunk that night he was then nailed over the head with a platter that had been sitting nearby. It made a lovely gonging sound and I think I saw stars spinning around his head for an instant. He moaned for a moment, his eyes crossed and he went down like a felled tree.

Claudette then smoothed her dress and went to get another drink to replace the one she'd used to clobber the soldier.

There was dead silence in the tavern as my heart jumped into my throat and began to reach for the ax we occasionally used to chop up the barrels when they'd gotten too old for any more use.

Then one old sergeant began laughing his head off, the rest of the tavern began laughing as well and all the tension fled like a deflating balloon as two privates picked up their downed comrade and and set him off to the side.

I simply stared at Claudette in amazement, I had no idea she had that in her...

Later that night when the last trooper, the old sergeant that had started the laughter earlier, had finally got to sleep, Claudette and I were the last people awake in the main room, pops and Claudette's sisters had already gone to bed. I was washing out steins while Claudette was cleaning the tables. Raising my head I took a breath and said, "So...earlier, the way you took care of Twiggy over there..." I gestured over to the guy Claudette had laid out earlier, still as out cold as a torch thrown into a snow drift.

Claudette went as red as her dress, "Y-yes..."

"That was amazing, down in two hits, even if he was drunk that was amazing where'd you learn to do that?" I said, honestly impressed I'd been taught how to throw a punch and brawl since I was six and I knew I good punch when I saw it and Claudette had an incredible right.

Claudette if anything went even redder, "I-I learned from my uncle Hans, he used to serve in the King of Bavaria's army, he used to visit our farm when we were little from time to time... and when I asked him to teach me he showed me a few things."

She then clasped my hands and she pleaded with the biggest puppy-dog eyes. "Oh you won't tell Gaston will you?"

Heart fluttering despite itself I spluttered, "W-what? Um okay...just why?"

Claudette turned her head shyly...and my brother ignored this?, and muttered, "Gaston wouldn't want a violent girl who beats up soldiers...Oh please don't mention this to anyone! Please! Please! PLEASE!"

I sighed then said, "Alright, alright! I won't breath a word, especially to my brother. Bu-"

I was cut off in my question when she giggled and glomped me...actually glomped me saying, "Oh thank-you Pierre. You're a true friend..." I was unable to say anything as sixteen year old hormones were letting out sirens that there were boobs! Boobs being pressed into me.

Then before I could say anything she just flitting off to bed, practically floating away. Christ I just got friend-zoned. So this is how it felt like...it _**BURNED!**_ Glancing over at the comatose soldier I briefly contemplated planting that ax into his skull and be damned the consequences. I eventually managed to calm down enough to pour a full stein of beer over the crotch of his pants instead, making sure that it soaked in REAL nice. Then I went to bed where I proceeded to slam my head into a bed-post for what felt like an hour.

OOC: Got an encounter with Laurette the Amber wearing one half done as well as my interpretation for the song and dance numbers...need to be on the road for a few hours but should have it up by tonight.


	3. Laurette and Accounting

So there was Claudette, I also learned something about Laurette soon after which made my frustration at my brother only grow, the one in the Amber-colored dress for those still listening.

Not long after that incident the soldiers had left, and I'd gone over to the bookshop/library. The summer sun was shining high above and I was in a pretty good mood, the damn soldiers were finally gone and I didn't have to hear another goddamn song and dance number from those clods. If I had to hear about the Vendee massacre in excruciating detail one more damn time I wouldn't have been responsible for my actions. I wasn't the only one, plenty of people here were old enough to remember when this had been part of the Empire or the holding of the old Polish Pretender and the last king's grandfather. We'd been luckier than other parts of France and had never been done wrong by the nobles or the king so had been horrified at what had happened to the royal family.

When the Vendee had risen we'd privately been supportive of the action and prayed for them in the small alcove the priest had managed to preserve when the revolutionaries had closed the churches, being a Roman Catholic in my last life the rites here were no hardship...except for the Latin...it sucked not being able to understand what the hell was going on. We'd also mourned the massacre that had followed when the bastards in Paris had committed Genocide, apparently this unit had served in the fighting and the veterans had cut their teeth in the killings. Which meant we were repeatedly serenaded with a damn song and dance number every damn night detailing the killings, burning and even rapes...

If anyone is curious the song and dance numbers were actually canon...seems that music was connected to a low-level but very omnipresent magical field found just about everywhere. Singing seemed to allow for some minor nudges to fate and the like. Sing about cooking and food tasted better, sing before a battle and you might fight harder. But just as singing could amplify the magic, the magic could influence the actions of people which resulted in them doing said song and dance numbers, it was an accepted part of life and no one could really resist it so didn't bother and went along with the flow...made things nice that a truly terrible singer wasn't a thing in this world.

But I'm rambling so back to my trip to the book shop, I was thinking about looking for a copy of Tacitus, I'd noticed that the bookstore owner had managed to acquire a copy of it last time I'd gone by and I was thinking about picking it up this time. In my past life I'd learned how to read when I was about three and mostly self-taught, it wasn't that my parents didn't teach me so much as they didn't have too much according to them. Which meant I'd learned how to read French shockingly fast compared to my brother. If I'd had my druthers I'd of been reading all day every day my mother...my original mother, often said I'd turned a virtue into a vice when I was younger.

As I entered I was surprised to see Laurette paying for what looked like a package of blank paper and other stationairy.

"Well this is a surprise, afternoon Ms. Laurette, what brings you here?" I said.

Laurette turned her head, blinked in surprise then smiled and said, "Oh Pierre. Good afternoon. I'm just doing some shopping for my father."

"Really? Your father's a farmer though." That was putting it mildly, the de Rhin's were the biggest landowners in the area and if they'd had at least one ancestor that did something heroic on the battlefield would have definitely been nobles of the sword. As it was they made a killing in selling grains of all sorts, which had done them well when crops had been failing left and right in other parts of France yet had left this area untouched.

"Yes but even a farmer needs to record of what he has. And that's my job." She seemed to almost beam at that.

"Really?" I said, kind of impressed, "How long have you been doing that?"

"Since I was ten. When poppa got sick all those years ago, me and my sisters were in a bad place and we drifted apart. Claudette was always with uncle Hans and Paulette was with Momma in the kitchen learning to cook. That left me alone for long parts of the day. Well one day I was went into poppa's study and I saw Clarence the clerk working. I was curious and I asked him what he was doing." I nodded in recognition, Clarence was a former student from Paris who'd fled the city during the height of the Terror and who had been hired on by Monsieur de Rhin as a clerk.

"Well Clarence tried to explain it to me though I didn't understand everything at first he said it just boiled down to a bunch of counting, then I asked if I could help him. Clarence had said that he saw no reason why not and I ended up becoming his unofficial assistant."

"No fooling?" I said, well this was something of a paradigm shift for myself. I'd always thought that the de Rhin sisters were a trio of giggly idiots. Claudette's thrashing that soldier and now this had cracked that facade like wood eaten by dry rot.

"No fooling Pierre." She said with a proud smile. "I could do Clarence's job by myself if I wanted to but Clarence has done well by my family, we couldn't just kick him out like that."

"Well that's good of your father Laurette….well actually could I ask you a favor?" I asked,rubbing the back of my head as I did so.

"What is it Pierre?" She said, cocking her head.

"Well...I was wondering if you could teach me accounting as well? You see my father's given me the accounting job for the tavern." I leaned in conspiratorially, "Between you and me I think pops might want me to take over the tavern some day, what with Gaston not being interested working behind the bar and all that."

"And what happened to becoming an officer?" She asked, "I know you mother had those old men training the two of you for years."

I grimaced, "Well that kind of died when the King was murdered." The both of made a sign of the cross and bowed our heads for an instant in memory of the wrongfully killed king.

Our village was a bit unique in that we were universally staunch Royalists and news had reached us that the king had been deposed we were horrified and when a messenger had later proudly announced the king's execution by guillotine for treason against the Republic….well it was the first and last time I'd ever seen my father really lose it….and there wasn't much left of the man after he was through.

The news had broken my mother's heart and had killed her dream of seeing us as officers serving in the king's service. I still remembered the haunted look she had for months after.

There was a moment of silence between us then I cleared my throat and said, "Erm well. Right, teaching, would you mind showing me?"

She considered it for a moment then said, "Alright Pierre I'd be glad to help." Then she grinned and said, "If you could do a favor for me."

"Oh sure, whatever you need." I said.

"Oh wonderful, well you see it's like this. The summer festival is coming soon and I haven't had anyone invite me to go with them." She stepped closer me and actually pouted...holy fuck was that hot. "And there's someone I'm really hoping would invite me, but he hasn't yet."

Dots immediately connected in my mind and I smiled, well there was no denying that Laurette was just as lovely as her sister and if she was actually interested then awesome. I decided to try and play along. "Is it someone I know?"

"It's someone you know very well, but he doesn't seem to know I exist." She pouted again.

"Oh I'm sure if he knew you were interested he'd ask you in a heartbeat." I said.

She perked up almost immediately, "Oh you think so?"

"I know so." I replied, already imagining dancing with her in the village square and maybe even stealing a kiss in the process.

"Oh wonderful, so you really will ask your brother to invite me to the festival?" And like that the entire image just died right then and there, turned to ash and blew away in a ice cold northern wind.

My jaw slackened and my eyes glazed for a moment, blue screening at the soul crushing I'd just experienced.

Laurette didn't seem to notice my stunned shock or assumed it was further confirmation of her request because she giggled and clasped my hands with hers and said. "Oh Claudette was right you are a wonderful friend Pierre. I'll see you tonight for our first lesson after last call. Bu-bye!"

She then almost dashed out of the shop, her spirits soaring, while I was left there still struck to the core.

I didn't cry…..

….

Alright I cried….a little….

….

Well maybe not a little….

….

ALRIGHT I ADMIT IT! It was a minor miracle no one else entered the bookstore that afternoon because I didn't want anyone to see a strapping sixteen year old youth almost folding himself in half in order to bawl his eyes out into the shoulder of the diminutive and unsure bookshop owner who had to stretch his arm a bit in order to pat the young man on the back while saying, "There, there. Everything will be alright."


	4. Paulette and the Meal from Hell

Then there was Paulette, the sister wearing green...what could I say about her...well...much as I hated to say it what you saw was what you got. She really was the giggly fangirl from that old film whether she was nearby Gaston or not. But she WAS one of the sweetest girls you would ever have the opportunity to meet. Think Snow White only puberty hit her like a mack truck and she didn't sing birdies down from the trees.

Where her sisters would get mad at other girls being near Gaston, she never did, she was just happy to be in the same vicinity as the guy...it was actually kind of concerning. But I sometimes felt that if any of the girls really was in love my brother and not just because he was the pretty boy of the village it was Paulette.

Paulette was the one who never lost interest in Gaston's hunting stories, was always the most eager to get him a beer whenever he was at the tavern, even hip bumping her sisters out of the way if the opportunity arose.

Whenever the girls came to the tavern in the afternoon to work it was pretty much the same pattern every time. There was Claudette with her proud stride always leading her sisters, then Laurette would often be right behind, often with a sheet of paper in her hands, likely some list of produce or stock she was making correction to, then there was Paulette, the happiest girl in the world, not oblivious but just always happy. She'd practically skip along behind her sisters. If Gaston was there and the girls noticed him, there was always a shockingly fast change. Claudette would seem to shrink on on herself and her confident look in her eyes would fade, like a dog learning its person is home. Laurette would quickly shove whatever notes she had into a pocket in her dress, that concentrated look gone and her brows completely unfurrowed. Those were always a bit painful to watch in my opinion...But it was Paulette who was the most interesting in her shift. She became, if anything, more herself and would always break ahead of her sisters to give him some extra food she had made by mistake that day.

She almost ALWAYS had a pie, or a loaf of bread, or some other bit of food with her when she went in for work in the evenings, always for Gaston and I'd never tried to contend it. I'd been the focus of her attention once involving food….never again! Oh it wasn't bad, FAR from it.

Allow me to explain. During the August of 1800, a few months after I'd had my heart stomped on by Laurette in the bookshop, I was surprised when Paulette called me out nearby the village fountain and asked if I could do her a favor.

"And what might that be?" I raised my eyebrow to emphasize the suspicion in my voice. Despite nobody being there beside me and the bookshop owner, news of me crying my eyes out because of Laurette crushing my heart had spread among the other boys in the village like wildfire...including my brother. I never knew HOW they figured it out...I suspected LeFou, the little guy could hide with the best of them, but they had and I was the butt of SO many jokes among my peers.

That had been a few weeks of hell, but to my surprise it was my brother who was the one bright spot in the entire thing. After he got his laughs in early on he pretty much stopped and I noticed that Laurette most certainly was NOT with my brother during the summer festival infact he went out his way to avoid her….was it petty as hell that I took comfort in that? Yes. Was it beneath me being a man of 26 years before I had my life reset? Sure. Did I feel darkly satisfied at the sour mood Laurette de Rhin seemed to be in the entire day? Oh Fuck The Hell Yes! Was it somewhat endearing that my brother was trying to make me feel better in his own bro-douchey way? I'll admit….yes it was. It didn't change much but it was nice to know he still cared even after we started to go our own ways.

When I saw the hurt look on her face I immediately hammered the paranoia and remembered schadenfreude down and shook my head, "Sorry I was remembering something unpleasant earlier, what could I do for ya?"

"Well, I'm helping cook for the harvest festival this year...and I wanted to be sure that Gaston would like it so I wanted your opinion you know him better than anyone, you have to know what his favorites are right?

 _Eggs...the guy has an unhealthy obsession with eggs._ I thought to myself, I'd thought the four dozen eggs from that song was just hyperbole...when we were twelve I was proven SO wrong...it was horrible just to watch that much food going down his throat at one time...well at least the chicken farmers were doing a brisk business... "Well let's see what you've got and I'll tell you whether or not he'd like it."

She clasped her hands together in glee and the BIGGEST smile spread across her face. "Oh thank-you Pierre, you such a good friend." There was a slight twinge but a combination of scar tissue and not expecting her to be interested in me meant little was hurt but my pride and even that not much. Besides I was getting a free meal from a pretty girl out of it, who was I to complain.

Paulette led me to her home, a large spread not far out town, her six older brothers, also triplets, were out with their father handling the animals or in the fields with the wheat and vegetables, aside from their main stay of grain they also did a tidy business as truck farmers, minus the truck.

Entering the kitchen I met the girl's mother Madame du Rhin, a more solidly built version of her daughters and still looking amazing despite having had twelve kids, I'd always thought to myself that Monsieur de Rhin was one lucky SOB.

She was cleaning off the scraped knee of one of her youngest three girls, also triplets..., like I mentioned impressive woman, then she tied a cloth around the knee she kissed her girl on the forehead and told her to go find her sisters. The little eight-year old girl scampered out the door right as I was heading in, almost on instinct I raised my arm and held it out horizontally so she'd have to duck her head underneath it. I remembered being that small and going over and under people was part of the fun of being a kid.

Grinning as she scampered off I turned and nodded my head, "Bonjour, Madame du Rhin, a pleasure to see you."

Madame du Rhin turned around and smiled in returned...I could see where the triplets got their looks..."Oh it's young Pierre LeGume, Bonjour. What brings you here today."

"Well Paulette invited me here to taste-test some of the stuff she thinking of cooking for the harvest festival next month." I said respectfully, my mother had hammered into my skull that manners were needed if one were to become an officer for years and even after King Louis XVI had been executed the lessons had stuck, especially when I talked with women, she'd been REAL adamant about that.

Madame du Rhin giggled a bit then said, "Oh I see, you just wanted a free meal didn't you?"

I sighed and said, "What can I say, us LeGume's are big men and we need a lot to keep us going." I shrugged good naturedly.

She just laughed again, "Well eat up boy, you won't be disappointed, Paulette's a wonderful cook." She then got a contemplative look on her face and mentioned, "Well don't you look the cute couple?"

Paulette flushed at that, "Mama! It's not like that."

My own response was a bit more melancholy. "She just figured I knew my brother's pallette better than most and since he's out with Monsieur Barras dealing with that fallen tree we could keep it a secret. Hey free food who am I to complain?" I said with a shrug.

There was a flash of some emotion that flickered through Madam du Rhin's eyes, though that might have been a trick of the light. Either way she said, "Well I won't keep you waiting and don't just pick something because young Gaston might enjoy it. There are going to be other people there you know."

"I understand, Madame." I called out to her. Heading through the house to an outdoor table, my eyes widened at what had to be at least six different meats, chicken, pig, and even lamb, at least nine different vegetables and ten TEN different pies!

My eyes widened in amazement at the massive spread infront of me, I turned to Paulette and said in a weak voice, "And you did this all by yourself? Paulette this is an insane amount of food! I'm surprised your mother let you make that much."

Paulette at my surprised look and said, "Yes, I did, mama offered to help but I insisted on doing it on my own. And don't worry about the amount, you should see how much my brothers and the help eat when they come in." My mind went back to the few times I'd met the older du Rhin brothers, each and every one of them were at least six feet tall and husky as a cornfield. How they hadn't been swept up into the army I had no clue. I could see those boys polishing off even this big spread.

"Alright well, let's see what you have. Sitting myself down I fixed a plate and took a bite….do you remember the first time you saw fireworks...or a movie you'd been so excited to see you couldn't think straight? Imagine that...only food. "So...good…." I managed to moan out.

"You like it? Oh wonderful!" She said, clasping her hands….I'd been living here for 16 years and that still surprised me when I saw it.

Faster than I thought possible I clean the first plate off. Wiping my mouth I said, "Well that was...heavenly right there. I don't think you've got anything to worry about Paulette."

I was surprised when Paulette looked distressed and said, "But you haven't tried everything yet. And I want to be sure that I get what Gaston likes the most...and you did promise."

I hesitated for a few moments, then sighed and said, "Alright. So how about those baked potatoes there?"

 _It hurt...so...good…._

Around an hour later Paulette said, "So what did you think? What do you think Gaston might like?"

 _Is this what being pregnant is like? Bloated beyond all human decency and sick to one's stomach? Because this is horrible….I need to hug mom at some point…._

Struggling to pull down my shirt to cover my now bloated stomach I said, "If *erp* Gaston *hic* turns down anything *burp* you make...then it's b-because he's got stomach bug. Your cooking is heavenly. All of it. Now if you don't mind I'm heading home. Tell your family I said hello, Au Revoir Paulette."

"Au Revoir Pierre, you've been a wonderful help today." She chirped not noticing the utter agony on my face, thankfully no one else noticed the teenage boy who looked like he was pregnant struggle his way back to the village.

Near the tavern I spotted my brother washing his face from the fountain, shaking water out of his long black hair he turned and spotted me. "Oh there you are Pierre, I was...Tabernac what the hell happened to you?"

I didn't answer him I just lurched my way over to my brother, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and with the strength a man on his deathbed will sometimes possess I lifted him off of his feet. With my eyes bloodshot, and dark circles underneath them, and with breath strongly hinting of garlic I ground out, "You. Will. Eat. Everything. Paulette. Du Rhin. Makes. For. The. Harvest. Festival. And. You. Will. Enjoy. It. I. Have. Been. Through. Hell. For. You. Today. Brother. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

"What?"

"I said, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!" I snarled this time, actually shaking him.

He quickly nodded.

"Good." I then dropped him and turned towards home. "I'm going to bed, don't call me down for dinner and likely breakfast either. Good-night Gaston."

"But it's only two in the…"

"I SAID GOOD-NIGHT!"

"...alright…"

I didn't leave the outhouse for an hour the next day and there were horrible sounds coming out that sent half the dogs in town howling.

And thus are my first and most vivid interactions with the du Rhin sisters. A fascinating set of sisters that my brother is an utterly blind idiot to or worse he knew what he's turning down. I honestly don't know which is worse….


	5. Brothers Fought, Curses Broken, and Feal

The next few days after my brother and I's confrontation, were as I mentioned tense. I didn't speak to him and he didn't speak to me. I knew that Belle and her father were coming back soon but I didn't know when.

One evening I noticed that the beer supplies were running low and I'd not seen hide or hair of the damn beer merchant for over a month. Well that was to be expected considering the war...but it meant I'd have to leave town and purchase the damn beer myself from our alternate buyers….and I HATED dealing with those asswipes. Their beer was utter piss and they knew it. But with the war going on my regular suppliers from over the Rhine were obviously having much biggers concerns.

Which meant that when I stomped up the stairs I had to walk over to my brother and break the silence. He was nursing a stein in his fur-clad chair by the fireplace.

Standing behind him I cleared my throat. "Gaston."

There was silence for a moment, "Yes, Pierre?"

Taking a breath I continued, "We're running low on beer and Piet hasn't come in. I'm going to have to go to our alternative suppliers."

There was a longer silence, then, "The St. Germain brothers? Their beer's awful."

I groaned, "I know that...but we don't have a choice. Considering what's happening over the Rhine right now we're not likely to get any of the good stuff for a while."

Longer silence, "Then that means you'll have to go yourself."

I couldn't resist and said, "You know you could come yourself, you're the better negotiator and you know it."

"You know I can't, Elliot won't speak with me." He responded, slightly annoyed now.

"If you just apologized…." I started heatedly then I stopped took a deep breath and continued. "Never mind. I'm going to be gone for the next couple of days and likely won't be back until late. That means you're running the tavern for the next three days. Which means you need to get Andre back in here. And please don't let him drink up our supplies for free. Dock it from his pay if you have to but no free samples. We can't afford that sort of bite into our profits right now. Especially after…" I stopped again.

Gaston grunted a bit as he rose and turned to face me. "After I paid off d'Arque." He finished, his blue eyes defiant.

I grit my teeth, "I still think it's a damn foolish idea and you can't change my mind."

"And you won't my mind either Pierre. Besides the money's gone and the old ghoul isn't going to give it back anytime soon." Gaston retorted.

I sighed and turned up towards bed, at the top of the stairs I turned around and said, "She doesn't love you and she doesn't want you and nothing is going to change that. It would be wise if you just let it go and find someone else."

Gaston didn't say anything at first, then he said, "Just you wait, by the time you get back I'll have walked Belle down the aisle. One way...or another."

"I pray for your soul brother. Good-night." I then headed for bed.

I left early the next morning, hitching our cart-horse Louis to the beer wagon we kept for such purposes. By time I was heading down the road, my brother was already gone, up into the tree-covered hills for another hunting trip was my best guess.

I sighed again, my brother had always been as proud as a cat and never took insult well especially to his ego. But while he'd always been an arrogant prick, this was something new entirely, this was a dark road my brother was going down, one that I knew that if I didn't do something about was going to end in his death. If you'd asked me before my metaphysical transfer, I'd have said let the bastard die. I'd have likely volunteered to push him over the side.

But now? After twenty years of living with him? With memories of the two of us running all over the village and surrounding hills? Of climbing everything that could be climbed? Of him always pulling me up when he always beat me? Coming to my defense when we were little and the older boys decided to kick us around?

He was an ass but dammit he was my brother. This obsession was going to get him killed. And what kind of brother would I be if I didn't try to prevent it.

I returned a few days later, right on schedule. I'd taken the news about Austerlitz with a better mood than I'd expected. I'd been iffy on where Austerlitz was in relation with France but when I'd figured out from some of the workers for the St. Germain brothers' brewery that Austerlitz was in eastern Bohemia hundreds of miles from our home-town, I'd become quite relieved. It seemed that Gaston's massive 'donation' to the d'Arque Asylum WASN'T going to result in us not having the money to pay off hordes of fleeing soldiers. That also meant I needed to apologize to the bastard for that much...even if everything else was vile to the extreme at least he was endangering our home town...small joys and all that.

As I'd noticed storm clouds gathering I'd decided to get on the road in one last push before the rains started and made the roads a muddy nightmare. It was about an hour before dawn when I was at the last stretch before home and a nice nap before getting ready for the evening. As I turned the last bend and spotted our town I noticed there was a lot more movement in town than was normal. Spotting the baker's wife Marie standing outside her house, I asked, "What's going on?"

Madame Marie turned and her face looked fearful, "Oh Pierre, thank God and the Virgin Mary you're here. Belle and her father just returned home this and when Monsieur d'Arque came to take Maurice to give him the help he needs Belle tried to stop him, we learned that there really is a monster up there and it's warped the mind of poor Belle. Oh Lord preserve us I can't imagine what that monster did to that poor girl to make her act like that."

My eyes widened in horror, "Where's my brother?"

"Oh Gaston and the men have gone up to deal with that monster. You'd best go as well, they'll need all the help they can. I saw the face of that monster through that mirror Belle had on her, most likely some sort of spying device for the beast. I nearly fainted from fright just seeing its teeth." She soon started to shudder from the memory of it.

I'd not seen her reaction, instead taking Louis as quickly as I could back to the tavern, unhitching the wagon, shoving his saddle on and getting him to gallop towards Maurice and Belle's home.

When I arrived I heard pounding from the cellar door. Seeing that the doors were locked with a heavy padlock I simply grabbed the handles and pulled. My brother was a strong man, able to take on at least three other men in a fight with relative ease and I'd never beaten him in a fight myself. But that was mostly because he was faster than me and had a mean-streak a mile wide. When it came to sheer brute strength I doubted there was a man in the whole of Alsace-Lorraine who could match me.

I expected I wrenched both doors clean off their handles...I was going to have to apologize to Maurice for that and pay for the damages...but that was later.

Flinging them aside I stuck my head in, and was nearly brained with a heavy wrench. Flinging myself back with a curse I stood up and shouted, "Wait! Wait! I'm here to help!" I shouted.

There was silence then I heard a female voice. "Pierre? Is that you?"

"Belle, Maurice? Are you alright?" I asked looking in. Belle and her father were standing at the base of the stairs, Belle held a large wrench in both her hands a frightened look on her face.

"Pierre? What are you doing here?" Belle asked, suspicion in her voice.

"I've been out of town for the past three days I heard from the baker's wife the story." I said, ignoring her question.

I offered my hand and helped both of them out of the cellar. Looking around I spotted their horse Phillipe already trotting over. His intelligent eyes focused on Belle and Maurice, then he spotted Louis and narrowed them in anger, Louis also spotted him and both Stallions made to fight right then and there.

I did NOT need this shit right now. "Oh for the love of...You two idiots can fight over Rosemary some other day. Right now we need you to take us to wherever the hell my brother's gone. If you don't put it aside right now I'm going to turn you two horn-dogs into GLUE MYSELF! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"

Both horses stopped dead in their tracks and stood at attention like they were in a military parade. Good.

Nodding to myself I turned back to Belle, "Right, now that's settled for the moment. I need you to lead me to this castle I heard about."

Her face grew defiant. "I'm not letting you hurt the Beast! I'll die before that."

"Belle calm down that's not what I want. I'm trying to stop my brother before he gets himself or anyone else killed." I said, trying to calm the spirited young woman down.

She stared for a moment. "Wait, you don't think he's a monster."

"If you say he isn't then he isn't." I said.

"And you believe me? Just like that?" She said, still amazed.

I sighed, not the time for this really! "Belle, I may not have talked with you much when we were younger, but I never thought you were crazy. You're also not one to lie, especially not about something like this."

I then turned to Maurice. "Maurice, from the bottom of my heart I am SO sorry for what's been done to you and your daughter. I've been keeping my head down for too damn long but it's high time someone knocked some sense into my brother. I don't understand why they're so ready to follow Gaston in locking you into the loony bin. Sure you might have blown a few things up over the years...but you'd think they'd have made you the town hero after you set up that chilled beer dispenser system I asked for last summer? The ingratitude of some people…."

"Oh Pierre.."Belle started but we were interrupted when a male voice called out. "Hey! What are you doing?"

Turning around I spotted the two assistants from the asylum walking around the house. Their hands reached for the clubs at their side.

"Don't have time for this!" I growled out, then marched over to the two goons grabbed them by the side of their heads and slammed them together. They dropped like marionettes with their strings cut.

Giving them a good kick to make sure they stayed down I nodded in satisfaction. "Right then let's get a move on. Maurice, get dressed. Belle I'll help you saddle Philippe, I'll follow you to the castle or wherever this beast is."

The two stared at me in surprise. Belle was the first to speak, "Pierre...I don't understand….why are you doing all this?"

I stopped and said, "Just because I didn't fight with my brother doesn't mean I ever agreed with him. I've always told him he was nuts in his relentless pursuit of you when you obviously weren't interested...but he never listened...he's always been like that. Now let's get moving!"

"Hey don't leave me behind." A small boy's voice shouted.

Turning around I spotted what had to be Chip the teacup hopping down the stairs. I stared at him for a moment, seeing him on screen was one thing. Seeing in person was another. Shaking my head I said, "Never mind you can tell me later. Let's go!"

A few minutes later the two of us were riding through town at full gallop, passing the tavern I shouted "STOP! I need to get something be just a moment."

I quickly dismounted, rushed into my bedroom and pulled out the long package wrapped in burlap. "I hope I'm right." I said to no-one and dashed back out. Strapping the long package to my back and remounting Louis I said, "Alright let's get moving."

With that we dashed through town, up the mountain path, over several streams. Rain began to pour as lighting crashed overhead and across the mountains but still we rode.

Through the trees we spotted the castle and we could see the torches of the mob. "There they are!" I shouted.

I kicked Louis' sides and rode faster soon outstripping Maurice and Belle. On the final stretch I could hear my brother's voice.

"Take whatever booty you can find. But remember, the Beast is Mine!"

Now or never, grabbing the package I quickly unwrapped it and flung the burlap aside. Grasping the item in both hands I brought one end to my lips and blew with everything I had.

When I was little I remember asking my grandfather if there was a way to interrupt a Song and Dance number. He'd thought for a while then said that there was but it required several things. First you needed a VERY loud instrument. Second you needed a tune, a loud tune that was completely different from the tune that was already going. Third, and this was most important, you needed incredible will power because every instinct in you is going to fight you interrupting the music already going on but it WAS possible.

Taking this knowledge to heart I started making my plans when I was about twenty years old. It took a lot of work to gather the materials, put them together and practice without anyone knowing about it.

And the results of all that work had me riding on a galloping plough horse, with both hands wrapped around a rough facsimile of an old Gallic Carnyx war horn, blowing as loud a tune into it as I could. All while galloping in the rain, on a mountain path, towards an enchanted castle, to stop a singing lynch mob….when did my life get so weird.

(AN/ Link for the Song: watch?v=DaRnI5Hra9c)

I entered the gates right when I started playing and I galloped down the bridge towards the mob. I don't know if I played well, but I knew I played LOUD, loud enough that the stones of the castle seemed to vibrate with its intensity.

My grandfather was right, this was HARD, every instinct in my body demanded I join in the mob's song, even just as accompaniment. But I held on. But it hurt….God above did it hurt. My lungs and throat clenched and demanded I stop but my will was strong and I was going to stop this insanity right here and right now. So I kept blowing, and kept playing, eventually the mob stopped singing and turned to stare at me. I kept playing.

They set down the ram. I kept playing.

They lowered their weapons. I kept playing.

I passed through the second gate into the courtyard. I kept playing.

My brother approached me. I kept playing.

The power of the mob's song faded to nothing. I kept playing.

I kept playing until Gaston grabbed my leg and said, "Pierre, what are you doing?"

I stopped playing. I gasped for air, I felt pains in my sides and lungs like I had run a marathon. Holy Fuck I hoped I never had to do that ever again!

Realizing my brother had spoken I turned, sucked in my breath, and slugged him in the face. He dropped to the stones of the courtyard, more stunned than hurt.

I got off Louis and walked over to him. He'd quickly gotten up. "Pierre, what are you DOING?"

"Stopping you brother, from making a huge mistake." I decked him again. He went sliding across the wet stone towards the castle.

Spitting out blood he stared at me. "Why? There's a monster in there that needs to be stopped."

"The only monster I see is the one standing before me where my brother once was." I said in a voice as cold as ice.

"So you're against me to then? Brother?" Gaston said, his eyes wild as lightning flashed overhead. Then they narrowed, "I see...you want Belle as well? Don't you? I should have known you two bookworms wanted each other, the only two obsessed readers in the village, it never made any sense that you didn't try to make a move on her...I always thought it was because you knew she was meant for me. But I understand now, you were too much a coward to try. Just like you've always been with all the other girls in the village.

But when you thought I might really make her mine you couldn't just sit to the side anymore. Well it's too late brother, Belle is mine! And not you nor any beast can stop that!"

I stared at him for a while, then I did the only thing possible. I laughed, I laughed so hard I bent over, I clutched my sides, my booming laughter drowned out the thunder itself.

Gaston didn't take that well. "Wha..why are you laughing? Stop laughing! Stop laughing dammit!"

I stopped, wiping a tear from my eye. I wheezed one more time and said, "Oh Gaston. You couldn't be more wrong brother. Belle is so far beyond our league we might as well be reaching for the stars. There's a man worthy of her but it isn't either of us."

Gaston snarled, "I AM worthy of her! I am the best there is! There is no one like Gaston! No ONE!" He charged me, his fist cocked back for a strong punch.

I simply stood and waited, when he threw his punch I raised one hand and caught it. It stopped dead. Gaston recovered quickly and tried to pull out his fist from my grip but found he couldn't.

"It seems I'll have to drive the point into your skull the only way you know how." I said in a voice as hard as Iron.

Gaston, still as full of bravado as ever, smirked and said. "You've never beaten me before brother, and you won't now!" He pulled back his other fist. I caught it as well.

Something stirred in my soul….I see well it certainly fits….with a few lyrical modifications.

 _'And who are you?'_  
 _My brother said,_  
 _'That I must bow so low?'_

I headbutted him, hearing cartilage break as I did so.

 _'Only a cat of a different coat,_  
 _That's all the truth I know.'_

Letting go of one hand I cocked back and punched him in the ribs with everything I had. It sent him flying backwards actually sliding fast enough to hit the base of the stairs before front doors of the castle.

Dazed he sat there while I advanced.

 _In a coat of Gold or a coat of Red._  
 _A lion still has claws._

He stood back up and advanced again, this time his hunting knife out.

 _And mine are long and sharp brother_

As I sang that I grabbed his wrist holding the knife, clenching hard enough to make him drop it.

 _As long and sharp as your._

I slugged him again, this time in the jaw, I heard bone crack as he went down.

 _And so he spoke_

I kicked him

 _And so he spoke_

I kicked him again.

 _My dear brother Gaston_

I picked him up and threw him against the front doors of the castle.

 _And now the rains weep o'er his head._  
 _With not a soul to care._

I advanced up the stairs, the other men of the village parting like the Red Sea before me. I picked up my brother by the front of the shirt. His eyes were wide with terror.

The last part of the song came in almost a whisper.

 _And now the rains weep o'er his head._  
 _With not a soul to care…_

I cocked back my fist one last time and punched him again. He was out like a light.

I checked his pulse to make sure he was still alive, then pulled him out of the way of the door. I stood up and worked my fingers, damn but he had a hard skull.

I turned around and saw the rest of the village staring in stunned awe, they'd known for years that Gaston was the best fighter in the village, but Pierre, quiet Pierre, had just destroyed his brother without getting even touched.

Right then Belle and Maurice came thundering over the bridge and entered the courtyard themselves. The men seemed to tense at their approach. "Don't touch them." I said. None did.

Belle dismounted and ran towards the door, she paused and gasped as lightning crashed overhead and she saw Gaston's unconscious body leaning to the side of the door. She turned back to me, a questioning look in her eyes. "Pierre…?"

"My brother and I had an argument. He needed some….aggressive persuasion before he saw things my way. Now I believe there's someone inside you need to speak with...allow me." I turned and pounded on the door, then in a loud voice I called out. "To the Lord of this Castle, I believe there is someone you know who wishes to speak with you."

There was silence, then the front door creaked open slightly. "Well go on Belle. I'll make sure you aren't interrupted."

Belle looked at me again, then touched my cheek and said, "Thank-you." With a smile she dashed in. The door slammed back shut. Nodding to myself I turned around to look at the gathered mob. None of them spoke. I noticed Maurice holding Philippe's reigns.

"Hello Maurice." I said, prompting the other men to turn around and look at the man. "I believe you're owed an apology. From all of us."

There was some muttering among the mob, "I said you're owed an apology from all of US!"

Faster than you could blink each and everyone of them were lined up to apologize to Maurice, who was more than a little taken aback at the deluge of regret coming at him.

As they lined up I turned to look as LeFou was helping my brother to his feet. I shook my head, why the little guy stuck with him like that I'll never know but it was comforting I guess to know my brother had a friend that loyal to him.

Gaston's face was a swollen mess and blood flowed freely from his nose. "Why? Why?" Was all he managed to say.

"Because the man for Belle is in that castle. And you almost broke our most sacred oath. Look at the sigil over the front door."

Everyone turned and took a closer look. When another bolt of lightning flashed and illuminated the sigil carved into the stone their eyes widened in shock and horror. There over the door was the personal coat of arms of the Royal Family of France.

"W-what?" I heard one voice call out.

"I remember a few months before it was announced that the Dauphin was dead, there were a group of cloaked strangers who came to the tavern late one night. I was already in bed when they came but I was still awake and I watched them from my window as my father let them in. They stayed one night and left before dawn up into the mountains.

I'd stayed up to watch them leave, and as they rode away I noticed that there was a smaller shape, listless in the arms of one of the riders."

There was silence as the horror of what the mob, bone-deep royalists all, had almost done began to settle in. Men crossed themselves, began to pray, others fell to their knees and wept.

"Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!" Was heard from more than one throat.

"But the beast?!" LeFou said.

I turned to him. "Remember those old stories, about a witch hiding in the mountains who'd prey on unsuspecting travellers….I think there might be more truth to those stories."

As I said that there was a sudden shriek as fireworks seemed to shoot from the upper parts of the castle, and the sky cleared instantly, revealing a brilliant dawn.

We all watched in awe as the monstrous black stone of the castle and it's grotesque carvings were passed over by a line of white light, like paper being set on fire, but leaving behind beautiful white stone and carvings, the dead fines replaced with vines of roses.

Behind the door we saw a flurry of flashes of lights coming from the windows. We heard voices, male and female coming from the other side. Then the door cracked open and a pretty red-haired girl stuck her head out and said. "Well are you still here with hostile intent or not?"

I chuckled despite myself and said, "Mademoiselle, we're not here to cause any harm. Not anymore. Rather….we've come to pledge our loyalty to the rightful king. Louis XVII, King of France and Navarre. Right boys?"

I glanced over behind me, the men all nodded and voiced their agreement enthusiastically.

The girl, who I now saw was dressed as a maid, looked me hard in the eyes then nodded and said. "Very well...but you will dry yourselves off before coming in. Understand?"

The seriousness of her tone and the incongruity of her concern considering what nearly happened. Set me laughing yet again. I recovered and said, "Very well Ma'am we'll be sure not to tread mud or rain water anywhere. Now please let us in, we're soaked and freezing out here."

The doors opened wider and I led the others inside, where several hundred people were dancing around, screaming, laughing, crying, hugging, and kissing, and dancing around.

They seemed to take no notice of us. Then they stopped as at the top of the staircase stood Belle in the arms of a big light haired young man with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, even more so than my or my brother's eyes. His clothes were torn but his face was regal and his bearing upright.

I stepped away from the others, my boots squashing across the carpet, the maid who'd let us in squawked in outrage for an instant but said nothing else.

I walked to the base of the stairs, looked him square in the eyes, then knelt, "Your majesty. I apologize for my brother and fellow villagers. We did not know you were here. We remember who is the true king and we stand ready to fight and die for you. So say I Pierre LeGume."

The other villagers soon copied my actions, saying their names and offering their oaths, even LeFou and my brother followed suit, too awed by what they had seen to do otherwise.

None of us noticed the black raven that flew away from the open front door. If only we had.


	6. Heading Home

Maybe it was the ambient magic from the spell being broken filling us with a crazed fervour, but at that point each and every one of us were ready to take the Dauphin on our shoulders and carry him to Paris and storm the city one way or another and crown him king, be damned the hundreds of thousands of men who'd sworn to fight for Napoleon to death….and all their guns.

Thankfully for the continued health of all of us, the Dauphin's response was a single flat "what"

And like a record needle being ripped off its track the mood died.

All of us knelt there, unsure how exactly to go from there. Then one of us….I'm not sure who...started to laugh. Then like a virus his laughter infected the rest of us and we were soon all laughing our heads off, myself included.

There were a few notable exceptions. One of the was my brother, through his swollen black eyes, his eyes seemed to zero on Belle and how she clung to the prince's side as the two of them laughed with us.

It felt like we were laughing for ages before I finally managed to get control of myself and stood up. "Your majesty, I apologize for how my fellows barged in on your private home." I bowed low, trying to remember everything Mama and that old Harridan she found from GOD knows where to try and teach us an officer's etiquette. Neither me nor, for once, my brother had done all that well under the old bat, much to the consternation of our poor abused knuckles, I just hoped I wasn't making a fool of myself.

Thankfully it seemed that the prince didn't care as all he did was smile and say. "Don't worry about it, if I had been in your shoes I would have thought the same. I'll freely admit I was monstrous to look at but not anymore. Not anymore!" That last part he shouted in absolute joy, which sent the staff, who'd been silent since the prince had come down the staircase, into an eruption of cheers. We villagers simply looked around at the mad, wild joy on each and everyone of their faces, more than one of us looked more than a little uncomfortable….and Gaston looked ready to collapse.

Deciding it was high-time to end this I cleared my throat. "Well your majesty I believe we need to leave, our wives, mothers, and sweethearts need to know we're alright and what's actually up here. But we'll be sure to come by later."

A few of the men grumbled but one hard look shut them up and with a few squashes we turned around and made to head back home.

"Wait! Pierre!" Belle's voice calling out my name made me pause. I turned around and saw Belle hurrying down the stairs and making her way through the crowd, the staff making room for her quickly while the villagers were a bit slower to do so. When she was standing in front of me she seemed at loss for words for a moment, then she grabbed me around the back of my neck and pulled my head down low enough for her to kiss me on the cheek. Turning red as a beet I started to splutter but went dead silent when I heard her say, "Thank-you Pierre. For all you've done. God bless you."

I simply smiled and said, "It was the right thing to do Belle. And"- I gestured to the prince who surprised the others by bowing his head in respect to me -"I think you're more responsible for this turn of events anyway. I just helped speed things along. Good-bye. I'm sure we'll see each other soon."

As I headed for the front door I paused for a moment and turned to see the Prince heading down the stairs and embrace Belle. A slight twinge went through me before I sighed and turned back around muttering under my breath, "Ships passing in the night." Then I was gone.

Walking down the stairs to the courtyard I started looking around for Louis as well as Gaston's horse Thunder, another fine use of his share of the tavern's profits. I'd never figured out HOW he managed to get that damn good a horse considering there was a WAR going on but I knew my brother could be convincing when he wished.

When I spotted the two tied up near the inner gatehouse I turned to my brother. "Gaston, do you think you can ride?" I asked him.

My brother, still being helped by LaFou, simply glared at me, before nodding and hobbling his way towards his horse. It was then I noticed that the other men were avoiding eye contact with him. It took me a moment before I realized what was going on. My home village had a large number of families descended from soldiers who'd fought for the Bourbons and they'd never lost the loyalty of their fathers and grandfathers for the king, even through the darkest days of the Revolution and the Terror.

They had only raised arms once since the start of the madness, the day we'd learned the king was dead, executed as an enemy of the PEOPLE of all things. My father, my big, laughing gentle father, had been enraged at the news. Enraged like he never had been and never would be again. With one blow he'd knocked the messenger off his horse and came within an inch of beaten the man to death with his own fists. Then he'd gathered a posse to take revenge on the closest revolutionaries they could find, which ended up being a small requisition patrol out looking for supplies for either the armies or the city of Paris which had still been suffering from a lack of food.

There were about twenty soldiers in the patrol and a hundred men from our village and the valley it sat in. They fell on the Jacobins like an avalanche. None of the bastards had survived, all while the men of the village had bellowed, "For the King! For the King!"

The arms and uniforms had been taken and the bodies buried under a large boulder. Those guns were still hidden in the furthest part of our tavern cellar, oiled and cleaned occasionally to keep them ready in case a time when they would be needed came.

It was those men and their sons who had followed Gaston to war partly for his charisma, partly because they had respected our father who'd become something of the village hero for instigating and leading the raid against the Jacobin patrol. Now they had almost murdered the lost Dauphin, breaking one of their most strongly held beliefs. All because of the jealousy of their town hero. The emotions that had been burning since the night before were now turning on my brother if the growing anger on their faces were any indication.

I was proven right a moment later when Quentin, the young Shepherd boy, purposefully stuck his foot out and tripped Gaston as he passed by, sending him tumbling to the courtyard. He lay there for a few moments, groaning in pain. I really might have broken a few of his ribs during our fight. None save LaFou moved to help him, including myself.

He struggled at first, groaning in frustration and pain. LaFou attempted to pull him back up, but with a wave of his arm he pushed the much smaller man back, he would do this on his own. It took him a minute but he was eventually back on his feet and continued his hobbling.

I shook my head, squashing the guilt that tried to take root. My brother needed this lesson driven home about his pride and the consequences of it. Gaston had always been an arrogant man, proud of his strength and abilities as well as the easily gained accolades of our fellow villagers. He'd never failed at anything in his life, until he'd decided to set his heart on Belle.

He'd been at a loss when his usual tricks had either been unsuccessful or had been outright spurned. He'd simply shaken it off at first with his normal bravado, but ever since the attempted wedding right after Maurice had left late in November, something had snapped in him. He'd brooded for hours by the fire for days. Until the night that Maurice had come back howling about a beast having kidnapped Belle. After that his pride and frustration had driven him to concoct the mad plan that had resulted in this entire night's events. I'd saved my brother from death, but I wasn't going to save him from the deserved ire of our neighbors.

When he finally managed to pull himself onto Thunder, I nodded and mounted Louis. Then I rode through the group and said, "Alright, follow me, we're heading home, the rest of the Valley needs to know about what's happened here."

I saw Gaston flinch out of the corner of my eye, whether from pain or the thought of the rest of the community learning what he had almost done I didn't know. The others nodded or voiced their agreement and quickly fell in behind me. When we crossed the bridge and re-entered the woods a thought occurred to me. The mirror that Gaston had taken from Belle so he could find the castle was likely still in Thunder's saddle-pack, I knew that he wouldn't have taken it with him into the castle.

Making sure that the men were still moving I rode to the side of the trail and waited until my brother and LaFou who was walking alongside him while holding the reigns. Kicking Louis into a walk I grabbed his satchel and plucked the mirror from it.

When he looked up at me I merely said, "Belle mentioned it. I wanted to see it for myself." When he didn't say anything I merely rode back up to the front of the column if the ragged and dejected looking men could be considered as such.

Considering for a moment I muttered, "I wish to see Napoleon." There was a bright flash of light and then a green glowing ring appeared around the edge of the mirror, blinking away the bright light I looked closer and saw...I went green and quickly shouted, "NEVER MIND! ABORT! TURN IT OFF!"

With a flicker the image vanished and I saw my nauseated face looking back at me. There some thing's man was not meant to see, watching a naked Corsican bathe was one of them.

I turned back to the others and said. "Well it still works. I guess I'll have to give this back eventually."

There were a few mutterings of agreement but that was it.

I decided then that the men needed to be reminded that this was a happy day. "Buck up men, I realize that we all almost made the worst mistake of our lives, but look on the bright side. The Dauphin is alive, and has returned to us. And he doesn't seem to hold a grudge against us. This is something to celebrate, right?"

There seemed to be a slight shift in the mood but not nearly enough. Thinking I remembered a song my grandfather had taught me, which he claimed our ancestors had helped make the first time around.

Song: watch?v=4h5M78YVN8M

I hummed the first few bars then broke into song, this wasn't a song and dance number...but it likely was going to, which was what I was counting on to break the gloom. Beside it was a fitting song, describing the rise to power of the first Bourbon king Henry IV.

 _Vive Henri IV_  
 _Vive ce Roi vaillant !_  
 _Ce diable à quatre_  
 _A le triple talent_  
 _De boire et de battre,_  
 _Et d'être un vert-galant._  
 _De boire et de battre,_  
 _Et d'être un vert-galant._

 _Au diable guerres,_  
 _Rancunes et partis._  
 _Comme nos pères,_  
 _Chantons en vrais amis_  
 _Au choc des verres,_  
 _Les roses et les lys !_  
 _Au choc des verres,_  
 _Les roses et les lys !_

 _Chantons l'antienne_  
 _Qu'on chantera dans mille ans,_  
 _Que Dieu maintienne_  
 _En paix ses descendants_  
 _Jusqu'à ce qu'on prenne,_  
 _La lune avec les dents._  
 _Jusqu'à ce qu'on prenne,_  
 _La lune avec les dents._

 _Vive la France,_  
 _Vive le roi Henri !_  
 _Qu'à Reims on danse,_  
 _En disant comme Paris_  
 _Vive la France,_  
 _Vive le roi Henri !_  
 _Vive la France,_  
 _Vive le roi Henri !_

 _Translated it meant._

 _Long live Henry IV_  
 _Long live this valiant king!_  
 _This fourfold devil_  
 _With the three talents_  
 _Of drinking, fighting_  
 _And womanising._

 _To hell with wars_  
 _And enmity, and spouses._  
 _Let us all together_  
 _Sing as true friends._  
 _Clink the glasses._  
 _The roses and the lilies._

 _Let us sing the refrain_  
 _That we will sing in a thousand years:_  
 _May God maintain_  
 _His descendants in peace_  
 _Until we take the moon with our teeth!_

 _Long live France_  
 _Long live king Henry!_  
 _To Reims we dance,_  
 _Singing as they do in Paris_  
 _Long live France_  
 _Long live king Henry!_

At first none of the others joined in but as I sung about the roses and lilies several of the men joined in, by the end of the verse they were all singing. The final verse we belted at the top of our lungs, seeming to make the trees around us shake.

The men seemed in a slightly better mood, then I said, "One more time, all together now!"

With that we all started back at the top. This time you could feel the jovial patriotism and love of king and country in our voices as the magic of the song did its work, we felt like we could and eventually would take on old Bonnie himself and boot his ass back to Corsica and plonk the Prince back on his throne then the world would start making sense again.

In that odd way music can sometimes shorten a journey: we left the forest, heading into the village proper when we finished the last verse holding that last line of "Long live King Henry!" with everything we had.

The rest of the village exited their homes as we came in singing like we'd won a battle. The triplets were among the first to approach our party. Confused at seeing myself leading the party they spotted Gaston sliding off his horse to crash to the ground.

Paulette screamed at the sight of my brother's injuries and rushed to his side, her sisters right behind her. To their shock and my surprise, three of the men blocked their way. They were Raoul, Robert, and Remy. The burly red-head with the Ahab beard, the short black-haired man with the permanent stubble, and the lean one with the grey hair and billy-goat beard. (Remy was rather sensitive about his early-set greying so we rarely mentioned it.)

All three girls gaped at how three of his closest friends were preventing them from helping him and almost immediately Claudette asked, "What happened?"

I cleared my throat and dismounted, keeping the mirror in my hand, ready to use it for evidence. I wasn't going to like the fallout from this…not as much as Gaston though.


	7. Thierry's Doom

It took about half an hour and several showings of the mirror's power but eventually the rest of the town understood what Gaston had nearly done. "And so I intend for the rest of us to head up there and officially apologize. After that...well I haven't really decided just yet," I finished awkwardly.

The rest of the town and quite a few folks from out in the countryside who'd come in when they'd learned about the armed band of men following Gaston passing through muttered among themselves, in tones too low for me to pick up. The early morning air was suddenly broken by the cry of "Regicide!"

My head snapped towards the direction of the voice. Thierry Pillot, a wandering peddler. He'd been in the Vendee region during the massacre and the tragedy he'd faced there had twisted him. He'd been wandering from village to village with his family when the Vendee had risen up. Being a native-born son of the region he'd thrown in his lot with the Royalists there. In the end it had cost him his livelihood, his wife, and his three small children all murdered by the Jacobin troops.

How he had managed to wander all the way from one side of the kingdom to the other we'd never figured out nor did we ever ask. He kept to himself for the most part save for when he got drunk. When that happened he would wander the streets, singing this heartbreaking solo of his long lost life, wife, and children while cursing the Jacobins to the deepest bowels. An odd trait of his was while his songs sounded like personal solos, either because of his madness, his drunkenness or both everyone could always hear him. Few interfered but all would weep every time, myself included.

Now the small man, his hair wild and his clothing torn from his lack of care, made his way through the crowd, shoving men and women much bigger than him. He then jabbed at Gaston, his eyes wild in a mad fury. Gaston, his face still swollen from my earlier ministrations, showed fear in his eyes for the first time in his life as he started backing away from the much smaller man.

Still Thierry made his way towards my brother, still pointing constantly shouting over and over and over again, "Regicide! Regicide! Regicide! Regicide!"

"Stay back! Go away!" My brother, my strong, brave, oh so proud brother, was scared out of his wits at the tiny mad man. He started backing away quicker, while Thierry kept up his pace. A few moments later Gaston broke into an outright run, fleeing in no particular direction save for 'away' from his tormentor. Looking behind him while running away he missed a raised stone in the courtyard and tripped, he took a sharp tumble and slammed his face into the stone. He rolled over, groaning in pain as he did so, blood pouring down his face from a re-broken nose.

He looked up and saw that Thierry was still approaching him, his shout now a shriek. "Regicide! Regicide! Regicide!"

"No. No. No. No nnononononononononono!" Gaston was now in a blind panic, trying to crab crawl away from the madman, but Thierry was moving faster and soon he was right on top of him. His boney finger coming closer and closer until it touched my brother's forehead. In his terror he shrieked like a lost soul as if he had been scorched by a hot iron when Thierry pressed his digit against his forehead.

"Cursed is he who makes to murder his king, and cursed shall ye be until ye have made amends," Thierry ground out in a grim voice much deeper than we expected the high tenor man to ever have. Then the small man spat on my brother and turned away. Hobbling back towards his dark hovel outside of town.

Everyone stood staring at what happened, then I saw movement again, this time three. I made to stop these new attackers but paused when I saw the three were the du Rhin sisters. Their eyes red while Claudette's eyes also burned with fury.

Claudette was the first to reach him. Gaston looked up at her, his eyes confused. "Claudette…?"

She said not a word, instead hauling back and slapping him. My brother was a big man and Claudette, while certainly not a pixy, was not that big a girl; his reaction was more shock than pain. She never said a word but turned around and walked away, her skirt flairing as she did so.

Laurette followed her sister and silently slapped him as well.

Finally Paulette walked up, she stared Gaston in the eyes long and hard, seemingly trying to look for something. After a few moments she shook her head and turned around as well. Gaston stared after them, his face showing how utterly lost he was.

Deciding enough was enough I cleared my throat and said, "Right then, Gaston, come with me and let's get you cleaned up. C'mon brother, easy does it." I help my brother back to his feet, and supporting him with one of his arms over my shoulders I make my way back to the inn. Turning to the confused crowd I said, "Right. I'll be cleaning up my brother and getting him to bed. As for the rest of you? Spread the word out to the rest of the valley. Tell them we need every jackman of them to come to a meeting, under the big oak at the base of the hill an hour before noon. We need to talk about what to do next." I paused for a moment then said, "And get the book keeper out, tell him...tell him to bring his sword."

That set off even more murmuring as the ramifications of my words struck home. Then I turned around and headed on towards the tavern, my mind a whirl of thoughts.


	8. Old Memories

When we were younger my brother and I had shared a bedroom, until mother passed away last winter. I still remember it like it was yesterday….

Mother had always been a staunch royalist, just like the rest of the village, but with her it was a fanatic sort of loyalty. As I'd mentioned before her father had been a personal guard for the old Polish Pretender, the father-in-law of Louis XV, as had Grandpa. Both men had been close friends during the war of the Polish succession and when they been retired after years of loyal service Grandfather had merely asked for the money to set up a tavern, but Mother's father had asked for a letter of recommendation for any son he would have, a bold request for a career sargent, but considering he'd saved the duke's life both during the war and after the war during a hunting trip the duke was more than happy to comply.

Gramps had kept it close his entire life waiting for the day he could give it to his son to use for his military career, but six daughters later and the dream was passed to a grandson. As mother was the eldest she received the letter as part of her inheritance. When we were born it became her life-long dream to see us as officers in the king's army. When the king had been deposed and later executed it had crushed her heart.

After father's actions leading that raid on the Jacobins, she'd kept hope in her heart that one of the coalitions would manage to beat back the Revolutionaries and restore the monarchy. But as several coalitions were thrown back her spirits began to wane.

When me and Gaston were seventeen personal tragedy struck. Father had caught some horrible fever that had left him bedridden, a bed he would never leave.

Something had broken in mother that day and from then on she'd merely...existed. Meanwhile Gaston and I had to try and scramble to manage the tavern while being barely grown men. Through the entire thing Gaston had worked like a damn hero, serving drinks, acting as a bouncer, leading men in songs and encouraging them to party it up which meant even more drinking.

Meanwhile I'd had to take over managing the finances. This had been mother's job but after father…. To my eternal gratitude Laurette had also stepped in to help, Gaston had never noticed but considering he'd work night and day as the front man while Laurette gave me a real crash course on how to manage the books, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Her selfless act had ended the slight grudge we'd mutually held against each other after that incident in the book-shop.

Sure she always said it was really for Gaston, but I could tell it was more for his ears than mine. Claudette had also been supportive, she'd volunteered to take care of mother while me, Gaston and her sisters handled the ground floor. Mother wasn't catatonic, but she seemed so lost that she wouldn't take care of herself unless someone reminded her. Claudette, commanding Claudette, used to guiding her sisters along, was that someone.

In the midst of all this madness Paulette also stepped in, bringing in enough food to feed us several times over every couple of days. If it wasn't for her me and Gaston would have likely collapsed from hunger at some point as we barely remembered to eat let alone cook anything.

It had been those insane several months that had solidified my...well I guess you could call it affections, for Claudette. While Laurette was still a bit standoffish and Paulette was focused on Gaston and feeding us. It had been Claudette of all people to comfort me one evening as I was heading up for bed and she was heading down after getting my mother to bed herself.

We'd met each other at the top of the stairs, she had just closed my pa...mother's bedroom door. We made eye contact and I was at a loss for words for a moment, then I said. "Well...how is she?" My voice trying not to crack.

"She's...about the same, no better, no worse," she answered. Her eyes looked me over and concern was obvious on her face.

"What about you Pierre? How are you?" She asked in return.

"Well...about as well as I can...considering the circumstances." I said, fighting back tears. I hadn't wept much when my grandparents died in my old life, somewhat more when my aunt passed not too long before the transfer...but this...this was a new type of hell. I still remembered Tom's father and I'd never forget him. But Jacques LeGume was the man I had called father for seventeen years, and despite my early efforts to the contrary had been father in my heart of hearts for a long while. Jacques had taught me to read (French), Jacques had tossed me in the air like I was a toy when I was five again and just enjoying being a kid. Jacques had comforted me when I'd come to him crushed about how all three of the du Rhin sisters had stonewalled me in favor of Gaston. Jacques had been a good father, a loving father, he'd been a barrel of laughs and was the life of the party. Gaston had gotten that joyful charisma from him in spades and both of us had his massive strength.

Jacques had been a town hero for years always using his great strength to help people out whenever they needed him and Gaston and I had followed in his footsteps. Right before the fever had hit a storm had knocked over a tree onto a roof of a farmhouse which had pinned a child underneath. When father had heard the news he'd come out immediately through the torrential rain and in feat of strength that people still talked about had lifted one end of the tree clean over his head and allowing the child to escape.

Jacques was a larger than life man and it had been like a lightning bolt out of the clear blue sky when he'd taken ill almost immediately after and died less than a week later. His great strength gone almost overnight. But through all of it he was nothing but smiles even at the very end and he said his good-byes to all of us before taking his last rites. He'd passed away as the sun was shining and I swore I saw a flurry of the whitest feathers I'd ever seen in my life flutter by the window when he passed.

"Pierre?" Claudette asked me again, seeing the obvious pain on my face. I kept it up for a moment longer, then sobbed, "Oh God, Why?!" and collapsed to my knees, my big frame wracking with sobs. White hot tears escaped from the corner of my eyes.

Suddenly slender arms wrapped around my head and pressed me close to a warm chest. I heard a female voice humming a soothing lullaby many mothers in our village sang to their children and my head was slowly rocked back and forth.

Thinking mother had come out of her fugue I relaxed and just cried, I wasn't one to loudly bawl, but my body continued to wrack with sobs. When I looked up through my tear blurred vision I was surprised that it was Claudette, not mother, who was still in her room, who'd been comforting me this entire time. Once I'd figured out my predicament I simply stared. Claudette smiled and kissed me on the forehead, "Feeling better?"

Voice rough from crying I said, "A little...thank-you…."

Stroking my hair she smiled again and helped me up to my feet and led me to me and Gaston's room. "Good-night Pierre."

"G-good-night, "I said, my heart still beating hard from her closeness as well as the kiss she gave me. I had no idea if that kiss was merely one soul comforting another or maybe the hope of something else, but either way it gave me comfort in one of the blackest days of my life.

Shaking out of the memories that had sprung up my brother was completely silent as we made our way through the tavern and up the stairs to his bedroom. The upper floor of the tavern had five rooms, two were used by me and my brother, the other three were rooms for customers or travelers that needed to spend somewhere for the night before moving on.

I got my brother sitting in a chair by the bed. Making sure he wasn't going to fall over I said, "Alright, don't move."

He just sat there unspeaking, but his eyes followed me as I left the room to get some water and a clean rag and some bandages. After so many bar fights I'd gotten skilled at the sort of first aid needed after such fracases. When I returned, my brother hadn't moved.

Sighing I took the cloth, soaked it and began cleaning his face, wiping the blood from his busted lips and nose. As I worked I kept silent before finally speaking. "You know you brought this on yourself."

Gaston didn't say anything, he just stared forward, I knew he conscious so I just continued. "I'm just glad this didn't end with you being badly hurt, or worse."

That prompted a response, "Rich you to say that considering you're the one who did this to me. A bit hopo-, hyper-, happy-"

"Hypocritical, of me," I finished for him.

He glared at me for a moment then noded, "Yes, that's what I meant."

"Considering you would have gotten killed I think a busted face and being scared by sad Thierry is a good exchange." I answered, wringing out the rag before starting again.

He kept silent for a moment before saying, "I could have taken the Beast."

"Sure you could have, barreling in there with just a bow and your hunting knife. Didn't even bring your gun. Just taking on a magical monster in a magical castle that's its home turf with who knows what else. Real brillant there brother." I answered.

Grabbing hold of his face I continued, "And that monster was the Dauphin under a curse." I then turned his head back and forth to make sure I hadn't missed anything.

Satisfied I continued, "Alright your face is cleaned up, let's get you out of those wet clothes, need to wrap your ribs anyway."

Moving quickly I helped my brother out of his clothes, wincing a bit at seeing the bruising he took from my beating. Looking back I wasn't proud of what I did, but I understood it was the only way to stop my brother's madness.

I quickly wrapped the bandages around his torso and then helped him into some dry clothes. "Right then let's head down to the big Oak. Think you can handle it."

Gaston gave me a look that could have either melted steel or frozen the heart of a star and quickly strode out the door. His face never gave a sign of any pain but I could see from his stiff and ramrod gait that he was actually in a great deal of pain. I sighed and followed after him, closing the door as I did.


	9. Meeting under the Oak

Memories pushed their way forward again as I realized it had been exactly a year since Napoleon had crowned himself Emperor, and the fallout in our family.

For the next four years me and Gaston continued to manage the inn, Gaston as the warm master of ceremonies, me as the barkeep and manager of the place. We had a few rough years but eventually we were able to have the tavern running better than ever. Mother had eventually come out of her depression but the fiery woman we'd know all our lives was gone. Instead was an introspective and prayerful matron, who had little to do with the tavern. She instead would go about the village, often speaking with old friends about the days gone by. She was often found in the church, rosary beads in her hands and Pater Noster's on her lips.

We gave her her space but were always ready to talk with her or invite her to sing with us when the mood came about. She rarely did but whenever she did we could see the old spark she used to have and could out dance with women half her age, her slight feet moving across the tavern floor as fast and as light as a deer's. But afterwards she seemed to fold in on herself and was exhausted in spirit if not in body.

Then a year ago we learned that Napoleon, the First Consul for life, had decided that France did need a monarch, him. A plebiscite of sorts was sent out to all of France, we burned ours and chased the official out of town. How a company of soldiers weren't sent to deal with us we never learned but we counted our blessings and didn't pry.

As if there were any doubt, and I had my own doubts about it, the plebiscite resulted in Napoleon crowning himself Emperor of France on December 2nd, 1804, exactly one year before the battle of Austerlitz I realized.

When news of the coronation reached our town most simply spat and cursed and moved on with their lives. But Mother, something snapped in her that day. She seemed to have come to a revelation of sorts and there after she was much more like her old self. She sang, she danced, she laughed she talked with her neighbors and it seemed we had our mother back. Then two weeks after Napoleon's coronation mother woke up as somber as she ever had. But instead of ignoring us she kissed us both on the cheeks and called us by our childhood names. She then entered the church and spoke with the priest for what felt like an eternity.

After that she returned to the tavern and called us to her room. She bade that the two of us promise to always stick together through thick and thin. She said she knew we would fight, it was what brothers did but she did say that we shouldn't hold grudges and to forgive each other. Then she made us make one final promise, one made on our bloodline and our family honor, that should the rightful king show himself and make to take back his kingdom, then we would everything in our power to help him achieve that goal. The intensity of her words and her stare had us promise.

Then she smiled and said, "I love you boys more than anything in this world, and I would have loved to have been there to see you married with a swarm of grandchildren...but it isn't to be. It's my time. I'm going to find your Father. I'm sure the big oaf is lost without me. Good-bye…God, Mary and all the saints keep you safe."

With that she lay down, clutching her rosary beads and closed her eyes, she took in one breath and said, "Jacques? Is that you?" and breathed the rest out, and was completely still.

Napoleon became something of a curse in our house after that and few liked to mention the name around either of us for many months.

As I promised myself to visit Mother's grave at some point and light a few candles for her and father. I noticed we'd managed to reach the great Oak tree. Sometimes the Meeting Oak, the men of the village had gathered under its boughs since time immemorial. Some of the older families claimed it had been here since before the days of Rome as a sort of sacred spot or was a fairy tree, when the fairies would gather at certain times of the year. I'd never seen one but considering the world we lived in we made sure never to be around the place at night during an equinox or a solstice. And looking at the colossal thing I'd believe the stories. It was a massive and solitary thing with a trunk a good thirty feet in circumference and nearly 200 feet in height. During the summer the leaves could offer shade for every single man in the entire village.

Right now though the empty branches stretched out to the clear December sky like gnarly fingers. I saw that around the base sat or stood every single grown in the valley from the young sheep herder Guillaume, to old Jean who most thought he was over a hundred years old and said he remembered Louis XIV ruling France.

The muttering of conversation came to a complete stop when Gaston and I were seen approaching the tree. As we made our way through to a large stone right under the base of the tree the others parted like the Red Sea for Moses. Two-hundred pairs of eyes watched us, most were curious, a few annoyed, one looked outright murderous. When I saw that one I glared right back at him, the farmhand turned his head, unable to look me in the eyes.

When we made it to the stone, I had Gaston sit and lean against an outcropping of the stone then climbed up to the top, allowing me to see over the rest of the crowd.

There was complete silence as everyone there was waiting for me to tell them why they were there. Clearing my throat and muttering, "Lord give me strength," I said in a loud clear voice, "Right can everyone hear me?"

After a moment everyone blinked but eventually nodded, "Good, right so is there anyone who doesn't know what happened last night?"

After a few moments, about fifty hands were raised, "Alright, one last time then. Ten years ago everyone here remembers when we received the news that the Dauphin died in Paris while under lock and key by the Jacobins. Well it that news was wrong. He's alive. And he's in a castle up in the mountains, only a few hours walk up there if you know the way. Many of the men here can confirm that."

That set off more talking, especially among the ones who'd said they hadn't heard about last night's events. I allowed them to talk for a while before continuing. "Right so here's what happened since Maurice left for that fair he'd left for."

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, I was exhausted. I'd ridden through the night to get home before the storm had come in and I hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours"Alright...where to start, where to start… Well I guess the beginning is as a good place as any. You remember about ten years ago when we heard the Dauphin died of a fever while imprisoned in the Temple?"

The angry mutters seemed to be a good sign of agreement so I continued. "Well it seems that the Prince didn't die in there, he escaped. Into the mountains."

"Bologna!" I heard a voice call out, "Where's the proof?"

"Figured as much," I said. Then I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the mirror. "Right. This is a mirror that shows you anything, anyone, or anywhere if you ask for it. Belle received it from the prince when she went home last night."

The newcomers scoffed but I turned the mirror to me and said, "Show me the Dauphin."

There was a bright flash of electric green light and inside a halo of green witch-fire the mirror revealed the prince, still in his torn clothing from earlier speaking with Belle in the library. Everyone took a step back including the folks who had been there during the march on the castle. Many crossed themselves when they heard the garbled voice of the Prince as he suddenly got on one knee and took Belle's hand in his.

"Belle, I know this is...sudden, but...would you marry me?"

Everyone went dead silent and a few shorter men were plopped on the shoulders of the bigger men to see over the crowd, I held the mirror up, letting the others see what was transpiring while listening carefully.

"What?" Belle answered, her voice choked with emotion.

The prince covered her small hand with his other hand and said again. "I, Louis-Charles Bourbon, do humbly ask your hand in marriage. Do you accept?"

Belle was silent for a few moments, then she embraced him and said, "Yes!"

The Prince shouted for joy and picked up and spun her around before kissing her. She looked him in the eyes with a contemplative look, she touched one side of his face and said, "Have you ever thought of growing a beard?"

Laughter rang out from the mirror as I turned the mirror to face down in order to shut it off. I looked up the the crowd, who were stark silent. "Well does that assuage your doubts?"

A few blinks, "Do you believe that's the long lost Dauphin?" I amended?

The silence continued then suddenly, "Vive le ROI!"

Others took up the cry, "Vive le ROI!"

"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"

Soon the entire crowd was roaring it at the top of their lungs.

"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"  
"Vive le ROI!"

Then I raised my hands and lowered them to get them to quiet down, "Alright, alright. I guess I've got you convinced."

"Where has he been then?" Someone else called out.

I looked in their direction and said, "If I had to guess…. Remember those old stories about a witch living up in the mountains? Seems like there was more to those old stories than we thought. Seems she cursed the prince to be a monster for who knows how long. And now our Belle's broken the spell and the Prince and her might be tying the knot, like in all those old stories."

The men muttered among themselves, seemingly confused that bookworm Belle of all people would manage to break a curse and marry a prince and the heir to the throne of France.

Then another voice called up, the butcher I think, his red moustache twitching as he spoke. "Well what do we do now?"

"Well that's why I called for this meeting. As far as I know the only people who know about this are everyone here and whoever is in that castle up there." I said. "If anyone else knew that the Dauphin was up there we would have been up to our eyeballs in soldiers."

Many among the crowd shuddered at the idea, they had either participated or heard about Jacques's raid but they all knew that had only been twenty soldiers and they had ambushed them with a hundred of their own. The idea of a real company or worse a regiment's worth of troops sent a shudder down their spines; mine as well.

"That's about what I thought. For now I'm suggesting that we simply keep our mouths shut and don't mention a word to anyone from the outside. At the same time we start preparing for a fight. Might be time to pull out those muskets from under the tavern and stockpiling powder and shot. And getting some lumber for fortifications if the worst happens might be wise as well. Well what say you? Do you agree?"

The men talked amongst themselves before they began to agree with at least the general plan.

"Alright Armand? How many men do you think you'll need to help you make enough rifles for us?" I called out to the town gunsmith.

Armand, an older man with a thick pair of eyebrows that seemed to try and make up for his hairless pate, stood up looked around, and after thinking on for a moment, "I'd say a dozen at least. But why arm ourselves? We're so far out of the way so long as we never breath a word we should be alright."

"Because these sort of things ALWAYS end up coming out sooner or later, and I'd rather we have the arms and not need them, then need them and not have them." I said matter-of-factly

Armand nodded, "Alright but why Rifles? Smoothbores are faster to make, easier to use to."

I gave him a look, he's a grown-ass man "Because there's only two hundred men of fighting age in this entire valley. That includes old grey beards and boys who've never seen the business end of a razor. No offense."

"None taken."

I continued, "We simply don't have the numbers to try and slug it out, we gotta act like light infantry, snipers. Hit and run, take a shot and keep moving. That and we need the range to keep any fusiliers off of us."

"Alright...but you know how long it takes to load a rifle, they'd just over run us."

"Well I actually have a few ideas, but I'd need to talk with Maurice Feron to see how feasible they are." I answered.

"Maurice? That nut?" Some wit called out.

"Said nut is your King's future father-in-law Jean, I'd suggest you shut up about that." I said in a cold voice. "Besides the man's brilliant…even if his inventions go boom from time to time. But imagine him working on something that's supposed to go boom think of the possibilities."

That seemed to convince them of Maurice's usefulness, which he was and I really did have an idea that he might be able to help with. I may have been Pierre for twenty years now, but I had been Tom for even longer and there were a few things I remembered pretty clearly… one was a piece of technology that would revolutionize the battlefield and hey a Frenchman invented it in the first place anyway.

"Alright so we got someone to make the guns but who's going to teach us. We're not all master hunters here." Someone else called out.

"We will." I said, pointing to myself and Gaston, "Both of us were taught how to handle a musket when we were younger and Gaston is the best shot in France and you all know it. I'm not a bad shot myself and I was always able to load a gun faster than he ever could."

"That's because you never bothered to do it right." Gaston said, the first time he'd spoken since we left the tavern.

"Well when the important thing is getting as many bullets in the air as quickly as possible, is neatness really all that needed?" I retorted.

"Not if you wanted to impress old man Dupont." Gaston said. "If I recall Dupont always cracked you over the head when you got sloppy."

"Don't remind me," I rubbed a spot on the top of my head in phantom pain.

"Besides you haven't done it in years, I doubt you could load and fire a gun half as quick as I can." Gaston said, though the smile on his face showed he wasn't serious in the slightest.

"Well we can have a competition later and see if I still have it." I said with a grin,

Then a voice called out that nearly killed the entire venture. "Why."

I turned to look for the source of the voice. "Why what?"

"Why should we do all this? Why should we listen to you? Who made you our leader? Besides if what you said is true then Gaston nearly murdered the king, all because one girl had the gall to say no to him, and that's on top of bringing the asylum owner d'Arque in here." The farmhand called out.

That set one of Gaston's closer friends, who hadn't been part of the mob to come to his friend's defense. "Hey how was he supposed to know he was the Prince? None of us knew that. Besides from what I hear Pierre's already given him a thrashing for trying it so I think we're all squared."

"And what's to stop him from doing it again, when our lives are on the line. He's proven himself to be a self-serving idiot. And I'm not trusting my life to him." the farmhand responded.

"Hey! No one calls Gaston an idiot." The other man said, and shoved him.

The other man responded by shoving back, the shoving turned into fists and soon both men were rolling around in the muddy ground. Others tried to step in but they were pulled into the scrum. More joined, either to stop the fighting or help one side or the other. Soon we had a massive brawl on our hands.

I glanced at Gaston, he had the decency to look embarrassed, "Well guess I have to clean up this mess on my own. Unless you think you can handle those bruised ribs.

Stretching his arms to show his lack of pain Gaston said, "Not a problem."

I gave him a knowing look but shook my head and said "Alright if you insist, you take that half, I'll take the other. Can you handle it?"

"Yes I can." He answered and with a shout both of us dove in to break up the fighting. Our ham-sized fists were flying in every direction and we connected with someone with every blow, putting them out of the fight.

"This is your fault you know." I said to my brother, after suplexing the local wigmaker...how that man stayed in business…

Gaston didn't say anything at first then said, "Well look on the bright side Pierre." He dropped kicked another farmer.

"What." I answered between holding up the shepherd boy and throwing him out via hammertoss.

"No tables to break out here." Gaston said with smiled.

"Oh will you let that go already?"

"Hey I'm not the one who threw his own flesh and blood through a wooden door and embed him into the solid wooden wall of the house across the square."

"I did that once! And it's not like I'm always like that."

"Such a shame."

"What was that?"

Nothing Pierre."

The fight continued for a good two or three minutes, then we heard a loud clacking sound, the sound of steel against stone. Every one of us stopped whatever we were doing and turned to face the source of the sound.

Standing there in the uniform of an officer of the ancien regime, was the book keeper Armand De la Vosgienne. However, he hadn't always been an old book-keeper. Years ago he'd been Baron Armand De la Vosgienne, Baron in the Vosges mountains, and a major in the service of his majesties Louis XV and XVI's armies, a veteran of the seven years war and every minor conflict France had fought since then.

He'd retired to this valley before I had been born, the land given to him as a reward for years of service. He was the largest landowner in the valley as well as the largest employer with half the of people depending on him for their lively-hoods.

Born from a noble family of the sword, his family had been forced to struggle to survive as they'd had little else to their names besides their title and the family blade. With most, this sort of hardscrabble life would embitter them to their more successful non-nobles, but with De la Vosgienne, it had only made him more determined to succeed, and he had, despite having little in the way of favor from more wealthy nobility let alone the court he'd managed to fight his way to the rank of major.

Those years in the military working his way through the ranks through merit and raw courage had produced a hardworking and even-handed man with a dedication to taking care of those below him. His lands he managed with a deft hand and he would frequently visit other farms in the area and would often invest his own money into them if he felt it was need. As he saw it, the nobility, like an officer, was given exceptional power over those below them, but at the same time they had exceptional responsibilities to those same people.

Thanks to a few favours he still had with Versailles he managed to acquire the tax-farmer position for our community. A position that normally earned the hatred of everyone due to the gross grafting that would usually happen. Lord Armand never did that, he took exactly as much as was needed by the taxes and never a cent more. The few times that the farms were unable to pay up the full requirement, he'd pay for it out of his own pockets.

The reason for this was several fold. Lord Armand was a dedicated bachelor and so never felt that he needed to save anything for any heirs or fund any mooching relatives. For another living his entire adult life in the army had hammered home a frugal lifestyle. Some of his fellow officers might have scoffed but actually living off of only an officer's salary without any personal wealth to supplement it forced him to count his coppers. Finally, a combination of successful harvests and a rumored fortune he'd managed to win during his years of service meant he was never short of cash.

This ended during the Revolution and the nobility had been stripped of their titles and lands. Not long after the monarchy had been abolished a force from the National Convention, in an attempt to alleviate the food riots in Paris had come here to commandeer our supplies. While they'd had done so they also had officially stripped Lord Armand of his land and titles, burnt his home down and had made off with most of his valuables. We would have come to his aid, but Lord Armand had forbidden it and there was also the sad fact that an entire regiment's worth of men had been involved in this adventure.

Along with seemingly ruining Baron Armand's entire life work, the Jacobins had also stolen everything we had to bring back to Paris. We were completely uncompensated for our losses, the Jacobin commander, a weasel of a bastard, had said it was all French men's duty and privilege to contribute to the Revolution and with that had promptly left. Which left many worried about surviving to Spring.

It was then Lord Armand had stepped up and showed the hidden stockpiles of food he'd hidden away when he'd learned of the upheavals in Paris and Versailles. When we had offered to help him rebuild his home, he'd turned it down. "I'm no longer a Baron, I don't need a chateau anymore. But a townhouse with a bookshop would be perfectly alright."

Most us had been surprised at that but we accepted his wishes and soon a bookshop was up and running. It never turned a profit but Baron Armand, or Mr. Armand as he insisted on being called, never had a trouble making ends meet. Whether support from the community or he still had other stockpiles hidden elsewhere I never figured out for myself but there he'd been, living the quiet life. Until now.

Standing up straight instead of the stoop I'd always seen, he still wasn't a big man but he now had a presence that forced others to take note of him. Sheathing his sword once he saw that everyone had stopped fighting, he then scanned us and said in a calm voice, "That's quite enough now, brawling like a bunch of Breton fishermen. I thought you were smarter than that."

He then walked up to the stone, I moved to help him, but he hopped up without any sort of difficulty. Once he was facing the others he cleared his voice and spoke. "If all that Pierre has told us is true, then yes. We need to prepare for a fight. For if a single word of the Prince gets out of this valley, and it will, we WILL have our 'emperor' sending forces to put an end to the threat to his throne. So for now we arm ourselves as quickly as possible. Pierre and Gaston have both been trained how to fight as soldiers and will be your instructors."

There were silent nods all around. "Pierre, since you asked me to bring my sword I assume you also want my help."

I nodded silently, somewhat amazed at the change in the stooped old man who'd comforted me when I'd had my heart ripped out in his shop.

"Very well. If you can show these men how to fight as individuals, I'll make sure they know how to fight as a group." Armand then scanned the group.

"However, no matter what precautions or preparations we make. It is going to eventually come down to one unavoidable truth. We may need to leave, as a group, leave our home, leave our livelihoods, leave France itself."


	10. New Beginnings and Ancient Foes

Everything was silent for a moment, then the field exploded into noise. Mostly the men arguing amongst themselves. To many of them, the idea of just packing up and leaving was inconceivable. Leaving behind everything they'd ever known? No!

Lord Armand allowed the men to argue for a while longer then he cleared his throat and said, "Alright that's enough."

To my surprise they shut-up. He didn't even have to raise his voice.

Observing the apprehensive but silent crowd, he nodded and continued. "I understand that the idea of having to leave is daunting but think about it men. We are an isolated community true, but we're not completely cut off from the outside world. People do come in from time to time.

Young Pierre is right, if even a hint about a surviving son of Louis XVI ever escaped we wouldn't last the night. Especially right now."

He ran his hand on the pommel of his sword as he continued, "However much we prepare for a fight it should be with the intention of buying our people enough time to leave. The question would be where?"

Muttering among the group started again before places were thrown out, the most common being the Austrians or Britain. That made me think for a moment, Austria was closer and didn't involve marching through all of France and stealing a ship to get there. On the other hand it involved trying to get through the war torn German states, with much of the population either not friendly to Frenchmen or were toadies of the Empire. That wasn't including whatever garrisons ole Bonnie would keep in Germany to keep his 'Confederacy' sweet on him and France.

Then when we got to Austria one had to wonder how much support we'd get there from the emperor, yes he was the prince's maternal cousin and what was left of his father's family was still there if I recalled correctly. Actually that was a question, were they in Austria right now? If they weren't then we'd be in a bit of trouble. Then there was the question of whether or not they would accept him as the long lost Dauphin, if we could find his sister she might be able to confirm him.

Our other option was Great Britain. Great Britain, with her mighty fleet. Great Britain, with her incredible wealth. Great Britain, with one of the best trained armies in the world, officer corps notwithstanding. Great Britain, with a large population of emigres with a chip on their shoulders and a bone to pick with ole Bonnie and who would be more than happy to support a Bourbon restoration. If we could get there and prove our case I'd imagine they'd love to give us money, arms, and training. The problem would be getting there.

We'd have to fight our way through the entirety of France, hijack a ship, get through the British blockade without being blasted to kingdom come, land in England without getting shot to pieces while trying to prove who we are.

Then there was the question of Belle, Belle Feron, a brilliant and beautiful woman if ever there was one...but had about as much royal blood as Louis our carthorse. If they confirmed our Prince as being who he was, a hundred guineas against a bent copper penny they'd demand he end the marriage and marry someone else. Someone with proper breeding.

And it'd be a cold day in hell before he did that.

But those were problems we'd have to face later. For now we needed to be ready to fight anything that came to this valley. Besides we needed to meet with the person who we were going to put our necks on the line for and get his thoughts, or at least get him into the know.

All that went through my mind for a few minutes, when I noticed that the men were starting to become agitated I cleared my throat. "Well either way where we go isn't important right this second. For now we need to prepare to defend ourselves."

Thinking about it for a moment I went on. "It might be wise if a small group ride up there and speak with the prince and whomever else may be up there. For all we know he doesn't know that Napoleon," a few spat there, "crowned himself emperor. Though with this thing he might know anyway." I flourished the unactivated mirror to prove my point.

"Either way we need to make sure everyone involved in this mess knows what's going on. I suggest a small group." I glanced over to the Baron, "Milord? Would you be willing to lead a small group up to the castle if some of the men show you the way?"

The old man bowed his head, "It would be my honor, it's about time I got out of retirement." That got a few dry laughs from the men. "I would also prefer to have that mirror of yours when I go up there. It might help with any talks I have with the Dauphin."

I shrugged and handed the thing over to the baron who slipped it into a pocket inside of his coat. He nodded his thanks.

"Right, so…" Spotting Father Henri I said, "Father, would you be kind enough to join the group? I think your presence would be appreciated."

Father Henri was a bit taken aback when I called him out, I figured a representative from the church would help. I was still amazed he went along with that slap-dash wedding my brother tried to pull a few weeks ago.

Recovering quickly the older man nodded, "If you feel that my presence would help then I would be more than glad to come along. Though I have my doubts a parish priest like myself would be of much use."

"Considering all the magic that had been thrown around up there I think a priest might be one of the best things possible besides. Imagine the poor people up there, they've been without a priest for the past ten years. Besides if things go right you might be officiating a prince's wedding. That would be something to tell people." I replied, trying to stroke the good Father's ego. Father Henri wasn't a proud man by any measure but the thought of being the priest for a prince's marriage had to have been tempting him on some level.

The priest nodded again, much more enthusiastically this time. "As you say, it seems to be God's will that I go with you so with you I shall go." He then started making a mental list of the sacraments he might need to bring up to the castle incase any wanted a mass or a confession.

Nodding in satisfaction I then looked around at the rest of men, "Alright now since I'm not mad enough to send two elderly men into the mountains alone I think a few volunteers to accompany them. Do I see any volunteers?"

Hands shot up and voices spoke up, "Alright...you, you, you, you, and ...you." Pointing out five men, two of them being the eldest of the du Rhin brothers, their final triplett had busted his leg a few weeks ago when a log bridge he'd been crossing had broken and he'd fallen into the gully below. He'd recover but he was still on crutches for the time being.

The five men nodded and with that I said, "Alright the rest of us will start taking stock of what we have on hand and see what we'll need for a fight. But first, we need to celebrate!"

That took many of them aback for a moment, "What? Don't you realize what this means? We have the proper king among us and he's probably about to get married soon, to one of our own. Doesn't that call for celebration?"

When that connected in their minds I grinned and continued, "Alright boys, I just brought in a good six barrels of beer just this morning before everything went screwy. Two free rounds each for everyone? Hows that sound?"

That got the entire crowd roaring in anticipation with cries of Vive le Roi and Vive Pierre! Well damn, if that's what it took for people to cheer your name, I'd have done it a long time ago.

"Alright, let's GO!" and with that the crowd began to move towards the tavern.

I made to follow them and get things set up before they tore the doors down to get to the booze. I paused when I make eye-contact with my brother, "Gaston...are we alright? We're not going to have any other problems right?"

Gaston looked me in the eyes for a long while and I began to get worried that he was going to make an ass of himself...again. Then he sighed and said, "Well...if I had to lose...to anyone...I guess there's no shame losing to a prince, and the Dauphin at that."

I grinned and slapped his back, then made a face when I saw him wince at the force of my hand, "Sorry…" I muttered.

He glared at me for a moment then shrugged, "Fine… now come on brother, before they burn the tavern down trying to get to the beer you just promised them. Rather strange of you giving free beer like that."

"What can I say Gaston, I'm in a giving mood." I shrugged my shoulders.

That set the both of us chuckling and we jogged towards the tavern, a grin on my face, my brother, my blow-hard-but-not-malicious brother was back.

We managed to get ahead of the crowd just in time opening the door with a flourish and bringing the barrels I'd recently bought out from the basement. There were some groans when they sat the St. Germain mark on the barrels but I managed to calm them down with a reminder that with the war we weren't going to be getting the good stuff for a while at least. That calmed them down and they took comfort in the fact that at least it was free.

With the sisters absent my brother took over handing out the drinks, using every single solitary stein, wineglass and even the old drinking horns we'd collected over the years to cover everyone. I just filled them as they came. Eventually it became obvious that Gaston wasn't going to be able to handle the demands and so we set up a line allowing the drinkers to just walk along in a single file line to the booze.

When they came for their refill I made sure to mark the mug with a piece of chalk. The idea being that if they had one drink already then they couldn't cheat their way to another drink.

That fell apart damn quickly when the men figured out that they could just wipe out the chalk mark with a sleeve. I tried to check sleeves as they came round but it was soon apparent that it was a futile effort and decided that until the beer ran out it was a first come first serve.

Soon men were starting to sing old snatches of songs of wars long over and battles fought long ago. It seemed the martial bug had infested the entire community. I just prayed that it wouldn't cost their lives in the days to come.

Hearing the old war songs, many of the women and children, curious about the crowd around the tavern, soon congregated around the growing party. When they got the gist of what was happening they got into a festive spirit as well, the anger at what Gaston had done forgotten for the moment. Hopefully for a long while but if it were only temporary I'd take what I could get.

Along with the beer, some of the women began to bring food of all sorts, mostly bread, meats and cheeses but certainly more than enough to enjoy. Then someone somewhere started playing a fiddle, and someone else a flute. After a few practice notes an accordion started and a dancing song kicked up.

As music is want to do in this world people almost immediately started dancing, not really a song and dance number but people were drawn to it like iron to a lodestone. Even I, who had two left feet most of the time, felt compelled to go out there for a few moments. But I managed to clamp down on the desire by reminding myself that I needed to keep handing out the drinks unless I wanted to cause a riot when the beer was denied.

Then I happened to look over at one corner of the village square and spotted the triplets standing somewhat aloof from the rest of the party goers. A twinge of...something...went through me as I noticed Claudette playing a with a strand of hair. I'd never really lost my...feelings for her, even if she and her sisters had for years made it blatantly clear they prefered Gaston over me. But that was before Gaston had tried to attempt regicide...it was forgotten in the festive mood but I knew it was going to rise up again, and the sisters hadn't parted ways with my brother on friendly terms. Maybe now was my chance?

I had a nagging feeling that it was likely going to fail...again, but what the hell if I got turned down again then it was time to accept that Claudette and I were never going to be and move on with my own life. Gaston wasn't the only Legume who was ox-stubborn.

Looking around I spotted Andre our alternative bar-keep, a complete lush but he knew his job and if I put the fear of God into him he could cover long enough to make my attempt. Shrugging off my apron I called out to the blond and bearded man. "Oi! Andre! Andre!"

Turning his head the already red-cheeked man spotted me and raised his mug, "Pierre, great party ye' got goin' and thanks fer th' beer!" I was starting to wonder at the wisdom at letting him handle the taps...but needs must and all that.

"I need you to handle the taps for a while, I've got something to take of." I happened to glance over to the corner where the sisters were still standing when he noticed my line of sight.

Chuckling he nodded, "Alright, alright, I got watcher wanting t'do Pierre. Hand over that apron I'll keep things runnin'. Good luck lad!"

Handing over the apron I smoothed my hair and beard, checked my clothes and strode over there as confidently as I could. I began to mutter under my breath different ice-breakers, trying to find the right one. "Claudette, what are you doing here all alone...morning Claudette, fun party no?..."

I was about ten paces from the sisters and was about to make my presence known when someone called out my name. "Pierre. Hello? Pierre?"

My brows furrowed for a moment when I noticed the voice belonged to some young lady I didn't immediately recognize. Turning around I had to look down to spot my accoster. It was a young woman about my age, pretty with pale skin, jet black hair that reached down to between her shoulderblades that she kept in a simple ponytail. Her face was framed by dark bangs that reached her jaw bone and her blue-grey eyes were looking into my own with some sort of anticipation? ...excitement? I wasn't sure.

It took me a moment to recognize her and I my face took a curious look, "Annie? Annie Lachance right? Good morning. What can I do for you?"

Annie Lachance was the niece of one of the local farmers, he'd actually been a member of the mob, the dark haird and thickly bearded man who claimed the beast would wreak havoc right before Gaston broke into song.

His sister had married a book-printer from out of town and the couple had moved to Paris not long before things had gone down-hill. They'd initially supported the Revolution at the start but when they'd become victims of the Terror their daughter had been smuggled out by their friends and brought back to her mother's home town.

I'd seen her from time to time while I growing up but I had never given her too much thought, my focus more on Claudette and or trying not to fuck up the timeline too much.

Seeing that she had my attention she smiled, her eyes seeming to spark, and said, "Good Morning Pierre. Would you like to dance? With me? If you want? I mean you don't have to if you don't want to…" The earlier confidence evaporated and her pale cheeks turned red as her broke eye-contact and she began to ramble….

The hell was going on? Since when was this a thing? Since when does Pierre Legume have girls asking him to dance? I lifted my head and looked around to make sure no one was pulling a prank on me.

Seeing no one watching me I looked back down at the small young woman (only about 5') who was started to turn even brighter red and tugging on her skirts as an act of nerves. Then the dots connected, I glanced up at Claudette, then down at Annie, Claudette, Annie, Claudette, Annie...then I grinned. "Sure."

Annie stopped moving completely and she whipped her head back to face me. "Really?" She squeaked there, then blushed again and corrected herself and said in a more controlled tone. "You will?"

I nodded again, "It'd be my pleasure miss." I offered my big ham of a hand to her, "Shall we?"

She smiled after a moment and place her small slight hand into mine. "Yes, lets." And with that we headed back towards the main party. As we headed back I happened to glance over my shoulder for an instant. None of the sisters had seemed to notice I'd approached them nor did they hear my conversation with Annie. Shrugging my shoulders I turned my head back around and glanced back at Annie. She was wearing a faded green dress, perfect for working on a farm. Her clothes were simple and practical for the most part, the only ostentatious bit of clothing was the bright red silk ribbon she had used to tie her hair into her pony-tail. I wondered where she'd gotten it but figured it wasn't important right then and there.

As we entered the dancing area another more spirited song started up, one of those that involved twirling around with your partner. I leaned down into Annie's ear, "You sure about this one?"

She nodded and said, "Yes, don't worry about it."

Shrugging my shoulders we got into position and started joining in on the dance, a bit clumsily at first but picked up speed as time went on. Soon a smile spread on my face, for the first time in this lifetime I was actually dancing with a pretty girl at a party for all to see. Claudette had always turned me down, instead hoping Gaston would ask her (he almost never did), and I'd never really tried elsewhere.

Seems I'd been missing out as Annie seemed to be almost overjoyed while dancing with me….why hadn't I noticed her before? Chalking it up to Legume bull-headedness and just enjoying myself I continued to twirl around with the young woman. I might have had to bend over a bit and she might been lifted off her feet once or twice when we spun a bit too fast but I didn't care and it seemed neither did she. I was having fun with a girl who seemed happy to be dancing with me...I could live with that just fine.

When the song ended we both were breathing a bit hard, a slight glistening of sweat was on her brow and her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes seemed to almost shine as she looked at me. "That...was fun." She finally said.

"Same here…" I said, a bit stilted but perfectly true.

We stood there, a bit unsure what to say next, I was clearing my throat when we heard excited voices from the end of the village that was closer to the mountains.

Seeing I was taller than anyone else I managed to spot the group of riders coming down the road. I spotted Baron Armand leading the way with Father Henri on a sturdy donkey behind him. Then I saw at least six other riders. Four were wearing the uniforms of soldiers of the Ancien Regime. They were bigger men with solid saberes at their sides and looked ready for a fight or a parade.

But it was the other two that caught my attention. One of them was Belle, riding on Philippe in her regular blue dress but the other. Wearing a pair of dark-brown pants and a white shirt and having trouble riding his white horse, he should have been a comical aberration in the group but something about him seemed to give an aura of royal authority.

It took me a moment to realize who it was but when I did I quickly knelt in respect. "The Prince." I said in a low voice.

Others heard my words and also knelt repeating my words. Soon the entire village were on their knees in homage to their sovereign.

The prince made his way through the other riders and looked around at the kneeling group, he blinked for a few moments, then looked back to Belle and the Baron, the former smiled and the later bowed his head in respect and support.

He smiled and nodded back, visibly steeled himself and turned back to us. Clearing his throat he said, "My faithful subjects, I have been told that you have been told my circumstances and the recent events that have occurred. I am here to confirm the ones that are true. I am Louis-Charles, son and heir of King Louis XVI of France and Navarre. I was rescued from the Temple ten years ago. I was cursed in the form of a beast ten years ago which was broken only this morning. I am your Dauphin and I have returned."

His voice trembled at first but as he continued to speak it grew more confident. When he finished he gestured to Belle who moved up to be right beside him. He took her hand with incredible tenderness and then turned back to us. "I also have one other announcement. I have asked Belle Feron to be my wife and she has accepted, we're to be married within the fortnight and all of you are invited."

There was silence for a moment, no king of France had ever married a commoner before at least as far as we knew. But this was Belle, she might have been a bit of an odd duck to the rest of us but she was still one of our own.

I stood up and shouted, "Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine!" Long Live the King! Long Live the Queen!

Soon others took up my shout, long live the king, long live the queen. For the first time in a long time the people of France hailed their rightful sovereign and his bride to be.

A shame that same raven from early that morning wasn't noticing flying deeper and deeper into the crags of the mountains.

AN: Setting the Mood watch?v=QTFLYCMkyiM

At the heart of the mountains there lay a dark ravine, the cliffs coming close at the top and forming a near cave that allowed very little light. Nothing should have been able to grow in that eternal shade...but grow it did. A thick forest of thorn vines, growing to incredible size with the bases thicker around than trees and thorns that were longer than swords and sharper than spears. If the ravine itself was dark then entering the forest was entering stygian blackness. The air was utterly still, no sound was heard, not the movement of animals nor even the creaking of the thorns vines.

If one were to enter that forest, and avoid impaling himself on the thorns, he would soon feel a presence in that forest. Something ancient, dark, hateful, and strong. Something that was a sworn foe to all of the race of man and would brook no intruders. He would never see or hear anything but he knew it was there.

Few had ever entered the ravine to explore the thorns and none ever returned alive. The forest seemed endless and without break...but there was one clearing. At the center of the thorns there was a small clearing, about ten feet across from any angle and at the center there was a jet black sword thrust into the ground. Nothing grew around the sword and if someone managed to reach the clearing then they would feel the sheer black evil that radiated from it. The raven, seemingly unaffected or uncaring landed on a small stone near the sword. It preened its feathers for a moment then it stared at the sword. Never twitching, never blinking.

Suddenly a black miasma emanating from the sword and began to swirl around the sword in maddening shapes. The raven seemed unaffected by the miasma and continued to stare at the sword with its unblinking stare. Soon a more solid form began to take shape, one vaguely humanoid, then a pair of yellow eyes appeared around where the head would be, they glowed for an instant. Then the eyes, those ancient hating, poisonous yellow eyes focused on the raven which had still not moved.

Then a voice emanated from the miasma, a woman's voice. One that would send dark thrills through the heart of any man that heard them. Filling him with a dark forbidden desire for whomever that voice belonged to. "My pet, what news have you?" The raven made eye contact with the eyes of the shape. There was silence for several long heartbeats then the voice said, "I see...it seems that my… "punishment" has been overturned, I did not expect that."

There was silence for a moment, then the shape seemed to shrug, and a sigh that would send dread chills and dark thrills through any man could be heard, like the rustling of dead leaves or the rasp of silk on the naked skin of some wicked paramour. Then the voice spoke again, "Ah well it was not like I did not have other tests. Besides, I think it will be more fun this way...who knows maybe he could do 'that' for me." Then the voice laughed, it was a high melodious tone, but instead of the tinkling of silver bells they were more like the cracking of thin ice as a weight pressed on it.

AN: My mind's image of Annie Lachance .


	11. Brotherly Time

The next several days were a flurry of movement and preparations. Belle was almost immediately swarmed by the women of the village, having caught the wedding bug, all memories of thinking her the oddball or the loony-toon were completely forgotten. One older lady, the wife of our 'official' mayor, (he was required by the revolutionary laws but he was more master of ceremony than anything else really), immediately took over things and got the entire village organized into teams to set up for the ceremony.

Both the prince and Belle made to interject when she took over but like everyone else, she managed to bulldoze right over their objections. Taking a horse right up to the castle to speak with whom I knew were Lumiere and Cogsworth though we were never introduced during the entire time, we were kept far too busy.

With all the people of the castle restored and no longer able to clean the place up we were shanghaied into clean-up, decorations, catering, whatever orders she gave. I was personally assigned flower gathering, it doesn't sound exactly like my job, but when you're hanging from a rope off the side of the castle with a small pair of clippers you wanted the strongest man in the village holding the rope And yes I was fully aware of what should have happened in the story the entire time I had one of my neighbors dangling off the side of a mountain.

The entire damn reason we were even doing this was because Madame Mayor wanted flowers for the wedding and the only damn place there were flowers were clinging off the side of the castle. Sure there were plenty NOT clinging to the side of the castle walls but she felt those were perfect where they were and would ruin the look if we harvested those particular flowers. Despite the cold, the roses that had appeared enwrapping the castle remained healthy and vibrant, but as none of us knew how long that would last teams immediately went to work gathering up the roses to use in the wedding.

Maurice was actually a Godsend when he set up a much more stable climbing apparatus for the flower gatherers to use besides a rope and a strong pair of hands, which certainly helped smooth things over with Maurice and the folk of the village who'd been nothing but apologies to the man. Thankfully Maurice wasn't the sort of man to hold a grudge and the whole matter of d'Arque was gratefully swept under the rug for the time being.

What wasn't forgotten though was Gaston's attempted regicide, thankfully we had been too focused on the wedding preparations to make an issue of it. But while nothing was said, that was also a problem, nothing was said...to Gaston. The people of the village, after that impromptu celebration remembered Thierry's curse and made a point to avoid Gaston whenever possible, unless it was vital to communicate with him they simply ignored him. And this, I think cut deeper than anything else that had been done to him.

My brother had lived his entire life as the center of attention. He'd certainly done plenty to earn their praise but until now none of his crimes had ever made our neighbors angry at him and stop seeing him as a hero. Now that his actions had finally come home to roost he didn't know what to do. He tried to enter conversations with the others, they ignored him. He'd try to show off to the others with his feats of strength...they ignored him. He even tried to start a fight once, they ignored him.

Until the day of the wedding I was the only one to speak to him on a regular basis. It was a surreal experience as whenever we were alone my brother was completely lost and repeatedly told me so. But I stuck by him, my anger with him was already over and done with and I was never one to hold a grudge.

The afternoon before the wedding the two of us were sitting in one corner of the castle some hallway with suits of armor lining the walls. We had stopped to take a quick lunch break, consisting of some bread and meat that had been brought up from the village. We were observing the armor in silence when Gaston swallowed his mouthful of food and didn't start taking another bite. I noticed his pause and glanced over at him, taking a swig of the wine we'd brought along to wash the bread down I cleared my throat and said, "What is it brother?"

He didn't answer at first then said, "I...I really messed up didn't I?" His voice was small and hesitant. Absolutely nothing like he normally was like.

I didn't answer at first but after a moment in an uncomfortable tone I replied, "Yeah...you kind of did Gaston." What else could I really say? After all he'd done there was no other way to describe his actions.

He sighed, his face crestfallen, "The others won't even speak to me." He turned to me, his eyes questioning mine, "Why are you?"

I was quiet for a moment then I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, "Because you're my brother Gaston. Do you think I pounded on you because I hated you brother? No I did it because I was worried you do something that would get people killed. Besides you were going down a dark path Gaston. You've always been prouder than an alley-cat, it's your defining character trait. It's been your greatest strength, but it's also been your biggest flaw. Remember when you insisted on riding Thunder before you even finished learning how to ride a horse? That horse threw you at least a hundred times before you finally got him to listen to you."

He winced in memory of that entire fiasco, "A hundred and twelve times. That time he dumped me into that briar patch was probably the worst."

I raised an eyebrow, "I figured it was the time you were tossed into that tree-hollow full of bees."

His eyes widened in horror, "You mean that really happened? I thought that was a nightmare after being thrown so many times." He shuddered dramatically.

That set me laughing and then the both of us were laughing our loud guffaws echoed through the empty hall. Wiping a tear from my eye I continued, "If you hadn't been too proud to give up, you'd have never tamed that horse and he's been the best horse ever hasn't he?"

When I saw him nod I continued, "But that pride also blinded you to things you didn't want to see...or accept."

He winced at that. "Like Belle."

"Yeah, like Belle. That's why I did what I did, I had to puncture that pride of yours and make you see sense. I didn't do it because I hated you, or I was jealous of you. I did it because you're my brother and I love you. We've been together our whole lives, through thick and thin, through good times and bad and I thought I was losing you to your damn pride. Twisting you into someone who wasn't my brother anymore." I laid my hand on his shoulder.

"For what's it's worth Gaston...I didn't like doing it." I told him in as heart-felt a tone as I could.

He snorted, "Bullshit Pierre."

I pulled back in surprise at the vehemence at his words.

"You've been wanting to beat me into the ground since we were eight. You just never could get the fire burning hot enough to do it." He looked at me as serious as a judge giving sentence on a convict...then couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. My relief at his lack of animosity set me laughing as well and soon we were laughing so hard we were leaning against each other. The hallway soon echoed with our howling.

Getting a grip on myself I wiped a tear from my eye and gasped out, "Phew! I needed that."

Gaston was wheezing himself and managed to choke out. "Yeah, me to."

As we were getting a grip on ourselves we heard the sound of chattering women, looking to the right we spotted the du Rhin sisters along with a few other girls from the village being led by the red haired maid I had spoken to the morning of the broken curse. I felt a slight thrill when I spotted Annie Lachance among them, her smaller height actually making her stand out among the other girls...at least in my eyes.

When they began approaching us we stood up and greeted them, "Good Afternoon ladies." I replied, giving my best smile...which I hoped didn't scare them off. Gaston simply nodded his head, expecting them to ignore him again.

The women paused and greeted us in turn. Then Paulette surprised us both when she turned to Gaston, "Are you feeling better Gaston?" She asked, apprehension on her face and she glanced at the other girls right after she spoke.

Gaston blinked at that, this had been the first time that someone had spoken to him since Thierry's curse unless it was utterly necessary, and the first time someone had asked about his well being. He recovered quickly enough and managed to give one of his old smiles and said, "I'm doing fine Paulette, I'm tough and I heal quick. I'll be better in no time."

Paulette gave a small smile and said, "That's good to hear Gaston….If you want I could make you something tonight."

I watched something click in my brother's head; his position shifted from his pose of bravado and became much more relaxed, "I'd like that very much Paulette. Living off Pierre's cooking is a fate worse than death."

A few of the girls tittered and I punched his arm in mock outrage. Then the maid told them they needed to move on and help finish decorating the ball-room. Annie brought up the rear of the group and paused a moment to turn back and smile in my direction before hurrying after them. To my surprise Claudette, who had shrugged her shoulders when Paulette had spoken with my brother also turned her head to look back at us. But when I raised my hand in a wave good-bye she flushed and snapped her head right around.

My hand froze in shock...what was going on?

My brother stepped to my side and commented, "So...Crimson and Gold or Green and Black huh? About time brother."

His words made me flush and I snapped down my hand to my side. Face still red I turned back to him and retorted. "Well what about you? Blue and Sable's gone but Emerald and Gold still seems to be a possibility."

He looked after the girls, his face unreadable, then he shrugged, "Well it's not important right now Pierre." He wrapped one arm around my neck and said, "Lunch break's over, we need to get back to work."

I smiled, returned the gesture and said, "Right, need to deal with all that furniture. Seriously where did it all come from?"

With that the two of us walked down the hall, singing a working song we learned from a Swabian merchant years ago. Gaston in his slightly operatic baritone, me in my Ravenscroft-esque bass.

 _"Just whistle while you work…"_

Our whistling rang through the empty hallway.


	12. The Second Trial

Faster than we thought possible the day of the wedding arrived. The ceremony was held in the castle chapel, which was not far from the main ballroom. Like every other room in this castle, the thing was MUCH larger than you would have imagined possible in even a castle as tall as this. So long as everyone was willing to stand there was enough room for both the castle inhabitants and our entire community.

Me and Gaston, since we were bigger than anyone else in the village were assigned the back of the crowd, partly for our height, and partly, I was sure, because Gaston was still being given the stink-eye from time to time from some of our neighbors. After Paulette had broken the ice yesterday, a few others had stopped their poisonous glares at my brother though certainly not all of them. While it wasn't perfect I was willing to take it for the time being as it was better than open hostility. I prayed though that the others would eventually forgive him or he managed to redeem himself as I thought he'd taken his punishment already.

Glancing at my brother's side I noticed someone who'd been missing since the events of that fateful morning. Little Lefou, my brother's lackey and (no fooling) best friend, had been keeping his distance from Gaston for the last few days, though not of his own volition.

After the buzz of the free beer and the announcement of Belle and Prince Louis's wedding began to fade, the others in the village had remembered just what Gaston had almost done and their work preparing for the wedding only drove it home all the harder. Their glares and their cold-shoulder treatment had hurt Gaston more than anything else had, driving him into a dark mood as he was reminded how far he'd fallen which I had only pulled him out of the day before.

For nearly a week I'd stuck by him and I wasn't alone at first. Lefou, despite the revelation of the true identity of the Beast, had refused to join the others in their ignoring of my brother. The others noticed it and were starting to give the little guy the cold shoulder as well. Including Marie, a girl we both knew Lafou was sweet on but hadn't had the courage to make a move yet. She was downright tiny, even compared to Annie, and with her narrow features and redhair, I often wondered if she was some sort of lost Leprechaun...an opinion that wasn't helped by the fact that her father was the village cobbler….Funny how the world works sometimes.

But back to Lafou, the guy had been pining for her for ages though never having the guts to do so...I sometimes wondered if me and Gaston's escapades in love scared him from trying. But he'd always been friendly with her and vise-versa. That is until it was common knowledge that Lafou wasn't going to turn his back on his hero/friend. When she figured that out she'd stopped talking with him as well.

Watching the poor little guy being crushed like that I gave Gaston one single look. Gaston returned said look, sighed and had walked over to his friend/only remaining friend.

Seeing how despondent the little guy was Gaston had knelt down and clapped on hand on Lafou's shoulder. The smaller man had turned around and tried to smile the same way he always did with Gaston, failing miserably, the downcast look in his eyes at his crush stonewalling him like that had put the poor guy down. "Oh, hey Gaston. Ready for another go at those roses hanging off the East Wing?"

Gaston, sighed and said, "Later. Lafou...we're...we're friends right? You think me like a friend don't you?"

Lafou's eye widened but he nodded quickly enough, "Y-yeah! Of Course we are, best of friends. Through thick and thin!"

Gaston nodded, "Then as a friend, I need to ask you to stay away from me, for a while."

Lafou flinched when Gaston had made his request, "B-but, why?"

Gaston had shrugged and said, "Because I don't want you ostracized for what I did." Huh using the big words there bro.

"Ostra-what?" Lafou asked.

"The others will ignore you for being near me. I don't blame them for ignoring me I know what I did was wrong...but you, you didn't do anything wrong. And I...don't want you to be hurt because of me...It wouldn't be right." Gaston was struggling to put to word what he was trying to get across.

Lafou's eyes narrowed. "To hell with them! You couldn't have known that monster was the prince under a spell! They were all ready to follow you into that castle. And who even cares that's the prince, what's he ever done? You're the greatest hunter in the world and the greatest man I've ever known! It ain't right I tell ya, for people to ignore you. It ain't right. And if no one else will, then I will!" He almost screamed that last part. Tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

Gaston, to my amazement, kept his cool and said, "Lafou, you're a good friend, better than most men deserve. And that's why I need to to keep away, for a few days, at least until the other's calm down. I don't want to see my friend hurt. Can you do that. For me?"

Lafou, sniffed for a moment, then said, "A-alright. But the moment somone else starts talking to you again, I'm right back with ya'. Ya' understand?"

Gaston grinned and said, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

With that the two separated for the longest period of time in their entire lives.

Even after all these years I was still amazed at the incredible loyalty Lafou had for Gaston. Ever since he'd saved the smaller man from drowning when we'd been boys, Lafou had stuck with Gaston like a shadow...or a puppy. He had acted as a gopher or assistant for my brother whether on hunting trips or just going about town.

My brother hadn't really treated the poor guy as a friend should, but he seemed to have a fondness for him that came close as he'd always keep him from getting beat on when they were younger and had never refused him when he'd asked to go on hunting trips with him. This turned out to be a boon as Lafou, for all his goofiness, was quiet as a shadow when he wanted to and his small size made him an excellent scout in the woods.

After following my brother around the foothills and forests for years he had become a master at finding and then flushing out the prey that Gaston would then shoot. He may not have had the nose but I'd have bet him against any tracking hound in all of France when on the hunt.

I still remember one of the few times I had gone with them. I had armed myself with a boar spear and blunderbuss, while Gaston had a hunting rifle, a huge monster that looked more like a small canon than any hunting piece. Most other men would have been sent flying trying to fire that gun, but Gaston was more than strong enough to withstand the kick. So was I but Gaston was by far the better shot with it. We jokingly called the thing the Dragon Gun as we would claim it could knock a dragon clean out of the sky…though considering the lack of dragons in the area, the last one being killed in 1305 (and wasn't THAT a surprise to read about in history class), we had our doubts for ever putting our claim to the test.

Lafou had only a small pistol that he kept in his belt, it wasn't his job to kill the prey, a boar on this trip that had been bothering the local farmers, it was to find it and flush it out.

A small man already, Lafou was keeping his head low to the group, following a trail the boar had made a few hours ago. As we approached a thicket in a small ravine he went still, straining his ears and looking around he then pointed towards the thicket and said, "boar's in there."

Gaston nodded and began loading his rifle while glance towards me and muttering in a low voice, "Have that spear ready." Then he turned to Lafou and said, "Alright, you know what to do."

The little man had nodded and moved forward, keeping low and drawing the small pistol, cocking it as he went. He disappeared from sight for a moment, then we heard the crack of the pistol, there was a bestial squeal and the entire thicket shook. Lafou burst out of the underbrush, running towards us faster than a man with legs as short as his had any right to, right on his heels was a mammoth of a boar. It was easily five feet tall at the shoulder and had to be more than half a ton if not closer to a full ton. It's tusks were massive, the eyes blood-red, I emphasize not blood-shot, BLOOD RED save for small jet black pupils that were focused on Lafou. It's large hooves churned the ground as it charged, and from its shoulder I could see a small trickle of blood from where Lafou had shot the beast to goad it into attacking.

There was a roar of thunder and a splash of blood, Gaston had hit it in the center of the chest. It seemed to tumble for an instant, than to our horror it regained its step and charged even harder.

My bowels threatened to turn to water. What the hell was my spear going to do to that monster? It'd use my spear as a toothpick after it ate me alive!

"Pierre!" My brother shouted at me, snapping me out of my panic. I turned my head to him and he shouted. "I've got to reload, you're going to have to spear it so I can get a clear shot."

"Wha-"

"Either you do it or we're all dead!" He snapped.

Gulping and nodded I steeled myself and got in position read to ground the spear for the boar to run on at just the right moment.

Lafou, seeing us ahead, put on another incredible burst of speed and actually pulled away from the boar. Seeing its prey getting away it roared in fury and lowered its head.

A heartbeat later Lafou went past me, I immediately stepped in the way of the boar and screaming like a fury I rammed the spear into the boar's chest. Its shriek of pain hammered into my eardrums and the thrashing of the beast threatened to rip the spear from my hands, but I held on. I was Pierre Legume, the strongest man in Lorraine, I may not be fast, I may not be skilled. Women seemed to despise me on principle but by God nothing and noone was ever going to beat me in strength. I gripped the spear tighter, planted my feet into the forest floor, gritted teeth, and wrenched the spear with all my might. The huge titan...stopped, off balance. Driving forward and roaring like a bear I drove the spear forward, using my own considerable size and strength to push the spear as deep into the boar as I could. The boar, its momentum stopped and the pain of the spear in its chest disorienting it, was unable to resist my charge and, to all of our amazements, was pushed off its feet and driven into the ground, pinned by my spear.

It didn't last for long and the boar began to fight even harder, feeling like my arms would be ripped from their sockets I bellowed to Gaston. "Take the SHOT! Take IT!" I forced myself to keep the beast down, trying to keep it still all while it was fighting for all it was worth.

After what felt like an eternity, but was more like half a minute, my brother dashed forward with reloaded rifle. He pressed the rifle mouth into the boar's side and fired. The boar tensed for a moment, then went still. Aside from a few residual twitches the boar was dead.

The three of us collapsed, I looked over at my brother and Lafou, then I broke into hysterical laughter, which Gaston and Lafou quickly took up as well. The three of us made for a funny sight as we laughed like hyenas around the carcass of the giant boar.

I was shaken from my memory when I heard the good father say, "-speak now or forever hold your peace."

I glanced at my brother, he tensed for a moment, then shook his head and kept silent.

Seeing that none spoke up the priest continued, "Then by the power invested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

The young couple turned to each other and kissed, a slight grin spread across my face as the entire church roared in approval. The young couple walked down the aisle, hand in hand, ready to face the world and all its trials and tribulations with a smile so long as they had each other.

The rest of the day was a non-stop celebration, corks were popped, food was eaten, toasts were made, songs were sung, speeches made and finally the couple would have their first dance as husband and wife. The music began and the royal pair made their way to the center of the ballroom. The prince in a blue jacket while Belle was wearing a dress that, according to the baron, had been out of style for decades but frankly she looked lovely in it. I was observant, not poaching!

They kissed and then began to follow the music, the couple the only ones dancing out there, alone in their own world. I was standing along the edge of the room, my brother was at my right, Lafou at his right. To my left Annie stood nearby with her uncle and the triplets were close by as well along with that red-haired maid.

I heard the straw-haired boy Chip, asking his mother if he would have to keep sleeping in the cupboard. As Mrs. Potts and Maurice laughed at his innocent question I sighed, and so ended the tale as old as time. I was now free to do as I wished without fear of ruining the story and other people's lives. The future was wide open. Nothing could-

Just as I thought that there was a brilliant flash of green light from the balcony outside of the ballroom, people shrieked in pain and fear and the music and the good feeling that came with it stopped dead. The doors flew open and a through my daze I could make out a feminine shape walk into the room.

When I could see again I saw the shape more clearly. Our uninvited guest seemed to be a young woman in her late teens to early twenties. She was taller than most women, standing about 5'6'', her hair was blonde and reaches down to the small of her back in flowing locks. Her dress was emerald green matching her eyes. Her face was fine and a her features beautiful. She had a small waist and the curves of a young maiden. In her hand she held what looked like a glowing rose, extremely similar to the one I knew All in all it was a visage of youthful beauty.

Old memories of an animated stained glass window danced in my head. Another dancing couple also flashed in my mind. A small part of me thought, so, this is the legendary enchantress. Another, much larger part went,Sleeping Beauty? For indeed the enchantress, save for the green dress and glowing green eyes was a dead ringer for Princess Aurora of the Sleeping Beauty fame.

As I tried to wrap my mind around that thought the enchantress walked or possibly floated towards the prince, who had pulled Belle behind him as he faced the enchantress. His features twisted in rage and fear, making the handsome young man's features look much more like his former bestial ones.

The enchantress stopped a few paces from the prince, then looked around the room. Her gaze taking in the other attendants. She seemed to smile and my heart flipped, God help me but she was gorgeous. At the same time, something in my lizard brain screamed at me that this was a threat and hideously dangerous.

Then she spoke, "Well met my prince. It seems my lesson has been learned and your curse lifted. Well done, I always knew you had it in you." Her voice was young and melodic, I'd always heard the term like bells but I'd never actually experienced such a voice. Well now I did...and again it was a thing of beauty.

The prince ground his teeth but kept an air of civility as he bit out, "Welcome lady Enchantress, what brings you here on my wedding day?"

The Enchantress smiled a wicked smile and said, "Why my prince, I only came to congratulate you on your nuptials." She glanced at Belle who was looking around the prince to get a better look at the intruder. "A true beauty, especially to see past my...alterations to your form."

The prince pushed her back behind him again his eyes seeming to burn with rage. The enchantress only titered at that protective gesture, "Oh my Prince, please don't be so defensive. I'm not here to harm anyone. I merely wanted to give you my warm regards. As well as tell you that you passed your first trial. It was a bit rough when I first tried ten years ago. You were such an angry and spiteful little boy. But my lesson seemed to straighten you up and you've passed wonderfully."

The prince paled at her words. "First trial? Test? What are you talking about."

The enchantress smiled and said, "Oh I guess they never told you. You see when you were young and your supporters had freed you from your imprisonment, they found to their horror that you were struck low by a horrible fever and were already at death's door. Unable to stay in Paris for you to recover they fled east to the Empire and your mother's kin. They were followed and eventually were chased into my mountains, where they managed to find refuge in an old chateau built by your illustrious ancestor. I believe he called himself the Sun King did he not?"

The prince flinched as if remembering things he wished not to remember. When Belle saw his pain she laid a hand on his arm. That seemed to calm the prince down and he turned back the enchantress who continued to speak. "Well when I learned someone had move in I had to see for myself who they were. Your guardians when they learned of my magic, begged me to save your life. That you were the rightful king of France and they would do anything at any price in exchange.

"I took their bargain. In exchange for their service I would not only heal you but ensure you were well taken care of. My only request being that I could test for myself how good of a king you were. And I must say my first visit was such a disappointment. Instead of a king of the line of Hugh Capet I was faced with a spoiled brat who would consign an old woman to the bitter cold of a mountain winter. Such callousness could not go unpunished."

"By turning me into a monster?" The prince interrupted her story. The hate in his voice volcanic and barely contained. I edged towards my brother, "Get ready to run…" I muttered under my breath.

To my horror the enchantress somehow managed to hear me as she turned towards where I was standing. She took me in or Gaston, and grinned, amused at something. A shot of ice went up my spine, getting the attention of something of that sort of magical power was NEVER a good sign.

Turning back to the prince she answered, "In a way, you needed to be punished for your cruelty, what sort of king would have been if you were so spoiled at such an age. This was for your own good."

"My own good?" The prince asked?

"Yes, did you not become a better man from your experiences? Like metal in a crucible you've come out stronger for it."

The prince was silent for a while, then he said, "You said first trial...that implies there are more."

The smile, wicked at first, now became cruel. "Yes. You've proven that a king must be a moral man. Now you must prove you are a warrior and leader of men in battle."

That set my mind whirling, what did she mean by that?

"How would I prove that? Defeat Napoleon and all his armies? You may not have noticed, but my resources are limited my lady."

"Oh nothing that extreme. But no worry about having to go out looking for a fight, I've already arranged one to come here."

I could feel my heart stop for an instant. What had she done?

The prince echoed my thoughts when he asked in almost the same words.

She answered with a smile. "Oh nothing much, I merely gave a local garrison commander a rumor that there was an old regime castle in these mountains with no defender or claimant. He should be coming with a company of infantry after the new year."

"WHAT!" Louis-Charles roared, unable to contain himself.

"Now, now my prince. You have the resources to fight them. Provided of course you're able to use them properly." The Enchantress said with almost unhidden schadenfreude at the prince's situation.

She waved her rose-wand which began to glow a, well, rose-colored glow that quickly enveloped her. "Well I bid you Adieu my prince and I wish you luck. I will return once your trial is finished. Oh before I leave. Here is a reward. It may come in handy in your upcoming conflict." In another brilliant flash of light she vanished. In her place was a small golden ring with some sort of design on it which I couldn't make out from this distance.

All was silent for a moment, then voices immediately began shouting over each other. Mostly fear at the idea of even a hundred soldiers of Napoleon's imperial armies coming to our small corner of the world.

I couldn't lie and say fear didn't have its grip on me, but I tried to force the growing panic in my soul and I looked around for Armand. Spotting I grabbed Maurice and pulled him with me, the older man asking what I was doing until I reached the gunsmith. "Armand, remember when I asked about that rifle making venture? Well we might have to step up production."

Armand nodded in agreement, dazed at what he had witnessed. Witches were creatures of the past, things of that sort of magical power simply did not exist anymore, but here was solid proof that their kind still existed and all those old stories somehow lost their innocent appeal.

I then turned to Maurice, "How are you with metallurgy? Because I have an idea that might help save all our lives if it works, and I'll need your help doing it. We'll speak to the prince about it once we have an idea."

I glanced over to the formerly happy couple, their entire world ripped out from under them and for one of them yet again. I prayed that they had the strength, cunning, and wisdom to see our people through this. I promised that I would help them in any way I could. The idea I began to discuss with Armand and Maurice was a start. We couldn't hope to blast away at any French troops like the redcoats could. And hunting pieces simply didn't have the rate of fire….but maybe if we could increase the range without losing rate of fire. I knew it could be done, the trick would be producing them fast enough. Sorry Monsieur Minee.


	13. Vive le Roi!

To say that my neighbors responded badly to the arrival of the enchantress and the threat of soldiers coming up here, even if only a single company, would have been an understatement. It only took about ten seconds before someone screamed and then the entire room started panicking. Some started argueing, others were making for the door, at least one man had dropped to his knees in prayer. This was bad, this was very bad.

Realizing that someone had to nip the panic in the bud before something irreversible happened, I took the initiative and tried to calm the room down by asking they do so in a level but loud voice with little success. Seeing I was having no luck with my first method, I decided to go for a more blunt approach. Taking a deep breath I bellowed "QUUUUUIIIIIIEEEEET!" at the top of my lungs. I happened to glance up after I stopped shouting and I think I might have actually made the chandelier shake, cool.

My booming voice echoing through the large ballroom like a thunderclap. That wrenched everyone out of their panic and they all turned their attention towards me. I had a flash of panic at that moment, shit now I had to follow up and say something to assure them everything would be alright, even though I had my own doubts that it would.

Glancing over to him, I gulped when I saw that the Dauphin was outright staring at me, anger and fear seemed to be fighting for dominance in his face. It was the most lost and helpless look I'd ever seen on a man in my entire life. He had no idea of what to do and was terrified for his new bride, his people and himself. The way he almost enveloped Belle in his arms as if to shield her from some threat was touching but also showed how scared he was. His fear was understandable. He'd been a young child during the revolution, then hidden away for a year before finally being cursed and spent his formative years as a raging ball of self loathing and primal fury. He was likely still learning how to walk on human feet still, assuring the people in the ballroom like a monarch should was still way out of his league.

Well if no one else would do it then I guess I would. Mother had always wanted me to be an officer and support the king, this was a bit different from what she had likely intended but the spirit would still be the same. Taking a breath I said, "Well, I guess all those old stories about a witch of the mountains were true after all." I looked around at the crowd and with a wry grin that I most certainly didn't feel continued. "I don't suppose anyone here happens to be the great-grandson of a witch hunter?"

My weak attempt at a joke got a few weak laughs and helped to calm down the crowd, though I admit I privately hoped to be surprised and learn that there was indeed a scion of a witch hunter in the crowd, we sure as hell could have used one. I had been mildly surprised when I was little to learn that witch hunters had not only been real, but had been practitioners of an honored profession going back for centuries from the time of Charlemagne himself. They had hunted black magic users, excised ghouls, exterminated goblins and even slew the occasional vampire (though you really needed an army for that last one from what I had read) for Glory, God, Gold or any combination of the three.

Unfortunately for them during the Protestant Reformation and the Thirty years war the explosion of witch trials and witch hunts caused a massive uptick in demand for their services….and ultimately tapped out their targets. Some hunters tried to become mercenaries but when the various princes and kings turned to more professional forces, they eventually hung up their swords and crosses and disappeared into the rest of society. I severely doubted that any here could claim such a pedigree as most hunters in France joined the nobility as compensation for their centuries of service. Other than the old Baron, who I knew for a fact didn't have such a heritage, none here in the village were even of the lowest rungs of the aristocracy.

I'd never really thought of the hunters much other than the occasional idle wondering what had happened to the sorceress in the time since she'd laid her curse on the Prince and his castle and servants. If one could have been found it would have been cathartic to hunt the bitch down and make sure she didn't ruin anyone else's life ever again. Even if the Prince learned his lesson thanks to her curse, the rest of the staff had never deserved such punishment. In the wake of her party-crashing and bomb dropping I was finding myself pining for one of those tough hunters of the otherworldly. But you had to deal with the cards dealt you and all that.

"We already knew this was likely to happen and we already agreed as to what our response would be, right?" I asked them, reminding them of the meeting under the oak. The nods I saw among my fellow villagers was comforting and showed I was getting to them. "Well I'm not getting cold feet yet, are you?", I asked them. That a series of no's and head shakings, good I was getting to them. Now for the prince.

Squaring my shoulders I turned to the Prince, "Your Majesty, a few days before the wedding, we had a meeting and after some discussion we had come to the conclusion that sooner or later you would be found out and unfortunately the self-crowned Emperor isn't going to just allow you to live your live. He doesn't take threats to his power kindly to put it mildly. All this has done is hasten the inevitable."

The villagers nodded in agreement and many of the castle folk blanched at the idea. While they had been cut off from the rest of the world for the most part, news HAD trickled in from the outside, they had heard of Napoleon and the idea of that military juggernaut bearing down on them terrified them. The prince looked to Belle as if he were seeking confirmation, after their eyes locked for a few moments she slowly nodded, confirming his fears. I was mildly insulted that he had to look to Belle for confirmation, wasn't like I stopped my brother from trying to burn his house down and mount his head on his wall. Then he turned to me and asked, "And, what did you decide to do?"

Reminding myself that the man undoubtedly trusted Belle above all others for a very good reason, I smiled then bowed, giving the best flourish I could. I privately thanked mother for insisting my brother and I learn all the forms of edicate we could, even if after the Revolution we doubted it would come of any use. How things change. I lifted my head and answered him, "We decided that we'll stand with you, your Majesty, no matter the cost. Besides in order to get to you the buggers will have to pass through our homes and we'll not allow that to go unpunished. Right boys?" I turned to the villagers my best feral grin on my face.

I had to fight down the butterflies in my stomach as I waited for their response. Despite all their proclamations of support actual soldiers coming would damper the enthusiasm of any man. To my relief they proved their words true.

As one every jack-man of them bellowed "NO!" More than one adding a crude expletive. I sighed with relief as my stomach settled and some of the tension drained out of me. At least I wouldn't be alone facing the Imps (my private terms for the soldiers of the Grand Armee) alone.

I turned back to the prince and said, "Well, there's your answer your majesty. We're ready to fight and die for our homes and our king." The others agreed with me with loud cheers and cries of Vive le Roi!

The prince seemed to be almost overwhelmed at our response. He shut his eyes and rubbed at one of them, then he looked back up and I thought I saw moisture for a moment. "Even after all that my family has done? I was only a child but even I noticed how badly many were suffering then."

I shrugged, "You were never to blame your majesty, and besides, we've never been done wrong by you nor our former lord." I gestured to the old Baron, who seemed almost embarrassed at the attention I was showing him. Then he straightened up and gave the most gallant bow I'd ever seen a man make, impressive for an old man bent with age, but I'd noticed a new vitality in the old man in the last several days and he seemed to be standing taller than I remembered. Maybe the thought of having a king again had revitalized him.

I turned back to the prince, "Maybe we were the odd ones out and maybe things needed to change but everything out there? It's gone too far and thing's need to be put back together and if we can help in any way, we will." I then took a knee and bowed my head, "I offer my life and service to my king, that he may return to his throne and right the wrongs that have been committed on France." How much of that did I believe? A fair amount but not entirely. While my home didn't suffer before the revolution or since then I knew that things had gone very WRONG in France. At the same time my home and my loved ones were in the cross-hairs of the mightiest warlords to ever march across Europe and I had to stop that by any means I could.

Then to my surprise Gaston walked to my side and knelt as well, "Both of my Grandfathers fought for your Great-Grandfather, my mother's dream that Pierre and I serve your father, when our learned of you father's execution he lead a band to strike at the Jacobins and slew ten men in the fight personally. Our family has always been yours my prince. I'll fight to the death for you. It is the least I can do to make up for what I almost did." _Kiss-ass_ , I thought but nicely done as following our example, the other men of the village knelt as well offering their own oaths to fight to the last for their king.

The prince looked around at the crowd of kneeling men then to our surprise he bowed deeply in return, "Thank-you, I'm amazed at your courage and your loyalty, and it will be rewarded, if ever I have the power to do so."

The moment was shattered when the butler, Cogsworth I think was his name, spoke up and walked to the center of the room, one eye blacked from his fight with the maitre'd and his wig askew. "Your grace, if I might interject, all the courage in the world isn't going to make a difference against armed soldiers. Unless you have something planned it might be wiser to simply flee. You still have family in Austria."

I shook my head, "I was out of town less than a week ago, all anyone was talking about was the 'emperor's' most recent victory. Bonney clobbered both the Emperor and the Tsar's armies somewhere in Bohemia, the fight's been beaten out of both of them for the time being."

You could have heard a pin drop after that bit of news, "Besides I think that's what the sorceress wants us to do. If we run the prince fails her little test yet again, and Heaven knows what she'd do to him this time."

That little observation went over about as well as well as could be expected. But before another panic started up I continued, "We're not completely helpless here my good sir. Sure we're not trained soldiers but our fathers and grandfathers were all soldiers. I dare any one of you to say you didn't learn SOMETHING from them, even if it was just war stories." There were smiles and nods of agreement from the villagers in response to my question.

"As for arms some years ago as my brother implied, our father led a posse to find some revolutionary soldiers to avenge your royal father's death on. We took their guns, powder and shot and tucked them under the tavern, we've got enough to arm fifty men and the shot to make a real fight of it should it come to that." I continued. "That doesn't count the hunting pieces many of us have, many of us are good shots and I doubt there's a better marksmen in all of France that could rival my brother."

I clapped my brother on the shoulder and he just beamed and bowed slightly, "It's true your majesty, I've managed to shoot down almost anything at any distance over the years, if a bullet can reach it I can shoot it." He declared.

"No one shoots like Gaston, your majesty." I said, I blinked when I felt the pinch of a song coming on, I stomped on it so hard I could feel the thing metaphorically cover its eyes and light a cigarette right before the end. I had never sung my brother's praises before and it'd be a cold day in hell before I did so willingly.

"Then there's the terrain, I don't know how much you remember before coming here but these mountains are not easy to travel through and any soldiers trying to get through are going to have a hard time keeping together, especially if we use our knowledge of the mountains to our advantage." I continued.

"Don't forget the Goddamned wolves around here. Winter's going to be rough one and those buggers are going to be even hungrier than usual." One of the du Rhin brother's interjected. Then he sheepishly turned to the priest and muttered, "Sorry Father."

The good father just smiled and said, "In this case I can allow it. Those wolves are insane in the best of time." It was true in a way, in this world at least the wolves of the Vosges were notorious for being psychotic killing machines, when hungry they were famous for attacking even large groups in huge packs and few dared the trek into the mountains alone if they could help it, especially in winter. I pitied the poor bastard who tried it without knowing how to deal with them. Most in these hills learned to carry a slab of goat meat with them and toss it to the wolves as a sort of toll if they had to go into the mountains. They seemed to understand the offer and usually took the meat and left the wanderer unmolested.

"Finally motivation, we're fighting for our king and our homes, they're fighting because their captain wants to loot an abandoned castle and they're not even expecting to fight in the first place. We'll have the moral high ground in this fight and God will be on our side." Not something I would have said in my past life, at least in public, but in a world like this? He very might well tip the scales for such a cause.

"In all I think we have a chance but we must use every advantage we have, and we need to use every moment we have to prepare. I'm ready to fight and prove that witch wrong. Are you?" I turned to the others. They shouted their agreement.

The prince, still more than a little, overwhelmed, could only say, "So am I, I've lived in fear of that woman for longer than I care to remember, I failed her tests once, I won't do so again." That set off more cheers, including the men from the castle. Good, we had the fire in our bellies now, now we just needed to make sure we had the tools to fight them. With that I needed to speak with Maurice and Armand the gunsmith, and see if there were any woodworkers or smiths among the staff, and see about those soldiery types that rode with the prince when he made his announcement in the village a few days ago.

Standing up I looked for Armand and Maurice and gathering them together I said, "I have an idea for making some more firearms before the soldiers come. Maurice, you're good with Steam Engines, you think you could rig something together to help if I told you what I had planned?"

The old man furrowed his brows then nodded, "I'm sure I can, what did you have in mind lad?"

"A machine that could make the rifling for multiple rifles at the same time, the by hand process would take too long for what I had in mind." I said.

Maurice thought for another moment, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to figure out the logistics of such a machine. His eyes snapped back into focus and he looked at me and nodded his head that it was possible, "I could do it, give me the tools and materials and I could have one banged out in a couple of days," he expanded.

"Wait a moment Pierre, you mentioned this idea of rifles before, but I'm still not sold on it. Sure rifles are accurate but the rate of fire is terrible and those leather wrappings are a mess to deal with." Armand asked, the older man was a master of his trade and his concern was a legitimate one.

"For one thing I didn't intend to have us face them head on. Rather I'd have us use the hills to our advantage, ambush, hit and run. These men are likely conscripts and fresh to otherwise they'd be with our 'dear emperor' over in Austria right now. They'd be doing well just marching in formation and firing as one on an open battlefield. Fighting up in the mountains they're unfamiliar with might be a little bit beyond them." I replied while turning to one side and making a spitting motion (completely dry mind you this IS a castle and a wedding and I was in front of royalty) Then I continued after Armand made the same motion, also dry. Maurice, not a true local didn't repeat the little insult to the Corsican warlord. "Also I've been kicking around the idea of a bullet that was designed to catch the rifling without needing a leather cover to spin. It'd make it much faster to load without losing accuracy." I made a rotating motion with my finger to indicate the spinning motion needed for accuracy with a bullet.

"And how would you do that?" Armand asked, then crossing his arms and cocking his head in doubt.

"Well if the bullet were somehow hollow at the base…."


End file.
